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BY THE SEA 



















































































































FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP 


BY 


FHE MAN IN THE MOON. 


DONE IN VERNACULAR, 
FROM THE LUNACULAR, 


By LAURA E. RICHARDS, 

AUTHOR OF “BABYHOOD,” ETC. 


mit\j illustrations 

By KATE GREENAWAY, ADDIE LEDYARD, AND OTHERS. 


BOSTON 

DANA ESTES AND COMPANY 


PUBLISHERS 



Copyright , 1880 , 

By Estes and Lauriat. 

Copyright, 1908 , 

By Dana Estes & Co. 


Received from 
Copyright Office. 
NAY l& tin 


Mnttersttg Press: 

John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. 


The Man in the Moon, 

CHAPTER II. 

The Mouse-trap, .... 



CHAPTER III. 

The Mice, 

CHAPTER IV. 

JOLLYKALOO, 

CHAPTER V. 

Tomty. 

CHAPTER VI. 

A Night Journey, 

CHAPTER VII. 

A Rainy Day and What Came 

of It, 


CHAPTER VIII. 


r\ Story Chapter, 


CHAPTER IX. 


A Picnic, 


CHAPTER X. 


The Carriage Cloud, 



X 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER XI. 


A Birthday Party, . 


• • 


*54 


CHAPTER XII. 


Sickness in the Mouse-trap, 


• • • 


169 


CHAPTER XIII. 


Off to the Sea-Shore, 


179 


CHAPTER XIV. 


Stories Again, 


• • • *93 


CHAPTER XV. 


Following a Sunbeam, 




207 


CHAPTER XVI. 


Under the Sea, 


2I 5 


CHAPTER XVII. 


Good-Bye. 


227 



CHAPTER I. 


THE MAN IN ™ E MOON - 

Children, down on the planet which 
Pfglip V i you call Earth, allow me to introduce my- 

self to you! I am the Man in the Moon. I have 
no doubt that you know a good deal about me, in 
^ an indirect way, and that your nurses have told you all 
sorts of nonsense about my inquiring the way to Nor¬ 
wich— as if I didn’t know the way to Norwich! and 
various things equally sensible. But now I am going to 
tell you a little about myself, and a great deal about your¬ 
selves , and about everything in general. In short, I am 
going to write you a book, and this is the beginning of it. 















12 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


You see, I live very quietly up here, very quietly indeed, with only 
my dog to bear me company. He is a good dog, and very funny 
sometimes, but still I have a good deal of time on my hands, and 
nothing amuses me so much as to watch all that is going on down on 
your planet, and see what people in general, and children in particu¬ 
lar, are doing, every day and all day. You may wonder how I can 
see so far, and see distinctly, but that is easily explained. I have a 
great, monstrous mirror, which is — oh! well, if I were to tell you how 
big it is, you would not believe me, so I will only say that it is very 
big indeed. This mirror has also the advantage of being a very 
strong magnifying glass, and as I can tip it in any direction I please, 
you will easily understand that I can see just what is going on in any 
part of the world that I happen to be interested in. For instance, 
Tommy Tiptop, the glass was tipped towards New York this morning, 
and I saw you take away your little sisters stick of candy, you greedy 
boy! Yes, and I saw you put in the closet for it, too, so that was 
well ended. Children are the same, I find, all the world over, for it 
was only yesterday that a little boy in Kamschatka (an ugly little 
Tartar he is, and not so very unlike you), named Patchko, while his 
father was out hunting, took away a tallow candle from his sister, 
which seemed just as good to her as the barley sugai did to little 
Katie. 

But, children all, I beg your pardon! I am not writing this book 
for Tommy Tiptop, and I hope that most of the boys who read it will 
be better than he is. I do want, however, to tell you about som 
children of whom I am very particularly fond, and whom most of yo 
do not know. These children live in the town of Nom 


THE MAN IN THE MOON 13 

which, as you are probably aware, is in the vState of Nomatterwhere, 
which again is, or really ought to be, one of the United States of 
America. Perhaps these are Indian names; similarly, perhaps they 
are not. There are five of these children, and I call them my Five 
Mice; and the queer house that they live in I call the Mousetrap. 

They are such funny 
children! I watcl 
them sometimes all 
day long, their pranks 
are so amusing; and 
then when night 
comes, I slide down a 
moonbeam and sit by 
their pillows, and tell 
them stories and sing them songs. Ah ! they like that, you may 
believe! And you all shall hear the stories and songs too, if you 
like, for I will write them down. So now, children all, listen! in 
America, Jennie and Johnny; in France, Marie and Emil; in Ger¬ 
many, Gretchen and Hans; in Italy, Tita and Nanni; in Kam- 
schatka, Patchko and Tinka. Listen all, great and small, to the old 



MAN IN THE MOON. 



CHAPTER II. 


THE MOUSE-TRAP. 

Many years ago, very many years as you would think, though the 
time seems short enough for me, there came to the little village 
(as it then was), of Nomatterwhat, an old man. He was a very 
queer old man, and nobody knew where he came from, or anything 
about him, except what he told them himself; and that was very little 
besides the fact that his name was Jonas Junk, that he had come to 
Nomatterwhat because he chose to come, and that he would stay 
exactly as long as it pleased him and no longer. The good people 
of the village, finding him such a very gruff and crusty old fellow, 
thought it best to let him alone; and this being exactly what old 
Jonas Junk wanted, he was well satisfied. Apparently what he 
wanted beside was to build a house for himself: at all events, that 
is what he did. He bought a large piece of ground and built a high 
wall all round it, and put the ugliest and most vicious looking iron 
spikes that you can imagine all along the top of the wall. Then he 
chose the sunniest and most sheltered spot he could find on the 
place, and there the old man built his house. Well, to be sure, what 
a queer house it was! in the first place, there were three separate 
flights of stairs, one for old Jonas himself, one for his cat, and one 
for his dog. His own staircase was very easy, with broad, low steps, 



THE MOUSE-TRAP. 


*5 

and two landings, though the distance was very short from the first 
story to the second; but the poor cat and dog must have had a hard 
time of it. The other two staircases were so crooked it seemed as 
if the carpenter must have built them in his sleep, and have hac. the 

nightmare to boot. Each step was set 
at a different angle from the one be¬ 
low it; and they were high, and steep, 
and dark — ugh ! I don’t like to 
think about them. I remember I tried 
to send a moonbeam down the cat’s 
stairs once, through a little skylight 
over the landing; and the poor thing 
got lost and wandered about for an 
hour before it could find its way back 
again. There’s a flight of stairs for 
you ! and everything else in the house 
was just as queer. There were large 
rooms and small rooms, long rooms 
and square rooms; there were cupboards everywhere, you never saw 
so many cupboards in your life. Some close to the floor so that yo i 
bumped your head in looking into them, others so high up in the 
wall that nothing short of a step-ladder could reach them ; cupboards 
in the chimneys, and cupboards under the stairs ; yes, there was no 
end to them. 

Well, Jonas Junk furnished his house, and there he lived for many 
a year, with his dog and his cat, and nobody else. All the ground 
about the house he made into a beautiful garden, full of pear trees 



FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


16 



and apple trees and all kinds of fruit trees. People used to say,' by 
the way, that the reason these apple trees were so crooked, was 
because they tried to look like old Jonas himself; but I don’t know 
how that was. 

Certainly, Jonas 
was not a beauty, 
and I am sorry 
to say the boys 
were disposed to 
make fun of 
him whenever he 
ventured out of 
his queer house 
into the village. 

“ But what has 
all this to do 
with mice and a 
mouse-trap, you 
ask?” Patience! 
patience! we are 
coming to that 
very soon. I am 

an old man, older than all of you and all your great-grandmothers 
put together, so you must let me tell my story in my own way. If 
Jonas Junk had lived on till to-day, his house would never have 
been turned into a mouse-trap; but one dark night, you see, 
he fell down the dog’s stairs and broke his neck, and there 


THE MOUSE-TRAP. 


i 7 



was an end of him. For a long time nobody lived in his house, and 
the garden was all going to rack and ruin, when one fine day a gentle¬ 
man from a neighboring town came to see the old house and took 

a great fancy to it; 
and finally he 
bought it, cat- 
stairs, dog - stairs, 
cup - boards, gar¬ 
den and all. 

Now this gentle¬ 
man happened to 
be Uncle Jack, the 
uncle and guardian 
of the Five Mice, 
whose father and 
mother were dead; 
and then it was, 
when he came to 
live in it with his 
five nephews and 
nieces, and Mrs. 
Posset the nurse, 
and Susan the 
cook, and Thomas 
the gardener, then it was, I say, that the old Junk-shop, as the 
villagers called it was turned into the most delightful house in 
the world, which I call my MOUSE-TRAP. 






















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CHAPTER III. 


THE MICE. 


Nibble, Brighteyes, Fluff, Puff, and Downy the baby. There are 
the names of the mice, all written out nicely for you, and there in a 
corner is a glimpse of the mouse-trap. Of course the children have 
real names, just like other children; but I have given them mouse- 
names, which I very much prefer to Harry and Bessie, and—but oh! 
dear, I didn’t mean to tell you any of their real names. Nibble is the 
oldest. He is now a fine bright boy-mouse of twelve, but when he first 
came to the mouse-trap he was only eight years old, and Brighteyes, 
the oldest girl-mouse, was seven Then came Fluff and Puff, the twins, 
who were just five, and Downy the baby, a fat little fellow of three. 

You see their ages were 
quite near enough for 
them all to be great 
% friends and playmates, 
and so they were, i 
' never shall forget the 
■ day they came. It was 
a fine bright day in May, 
and Spring was just 
awake in the old garden. The short new grass was like emerald ; 






FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


the old gnarled apple-trees, which certainly did look like Jonas Junk 
when their branches were bare, had lost all trace of such likeness, for 
each was crowned with a pink and white snowdrift of blossoms. 
Down in the neglected flower-beds the crocuses and snowdrops 
were nodding and whispering to each other. “ Yes,” they said, “ some 
new people are coming to live in the old house, and there are children 
among them. Mr. Breeze, the postman, knows all about them, but he 
could not stop to tell us much this morning, for he was in a hurry. 
Now we shall be cared for, and watered, and there will be some 
pleasure in blossoming. When the children come, we will tell them 


how those vulgar 
weeds pushed and 
crowded us last 
year.” And they 
did tell the child¬ 
ren, but children 
do not understand 



1 flower-talk, I find. 

r 

And yet it is a very 
III, simple language. 
»You see, I hear 

Ptr a g reat deal 

flower-gossip, for 
R my moonbeams 


are sad chatterboxes, and they bring me back all sorts of news when 
they come home in the morning. How the burglar-bees robbed old 
Madam Peony, how the daffodils in the long border had been flirting 




KLUFF and puff. 


4 
















































































































































































































THE MICE. 


*3 


with the regiment of purple flags behind them, when the Tulip family 
are expected; yes, there is no end to the things I hear. But if I told 
all I know, everybody would be as wise as I am, so let us go on 
about the mice. 

Well, at about three o’clock in the afternoon of this fine day that I 
have been describing, a large carriage, drawn by two fine black horses, 
drove through the old gateway and down the quiet, lovely lane, and 
stopped in front of the house. The very instant the wheels ceased 
to turn, the door of the carriage burst open with a crash, and out 
jumped, rolled, and tumbled my five mice. First came Nibble, in 
jacket and trousers and cap. One jump out of the carriage, another 
to the top of a post, and there he was. Next came Brighteyes, all 
flying, feet and curls and hat and ribbons. Then one of the twins 
rolled out, and the other tumbled out; and one was hurt, and the 
other was not. That is always the way with those two children. 
One is lucky, and one unlucky. Puff always falls on her feet. Fluff 
always falls on her head. Uncle Jack often calls them Hap and 
Hazard, and that is the only difference between them. However, 
when they got up and shook themselves, I saw that they were very 
pretty little girls. Now I will make you a picture of them. Yes, I 
can draw pictures too; in fact, there are very few things that I cannot 
do if I try. Here they are, Puff and Fluff, two of the dearest mice in 
the world. 

Next a gentleman stepped out of the carriage; a very, very tall 
gentleman, with very broad shoulders, and very bright eyes. That 
was Uncle Jack; and he helped Mrs. Posset to get out, for she had 
Downy asleep in her arms, and he was a pretty good armful. Then 


24 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


Uncle Jack took some bags and bundles out of the carriage ; then he 
turned round and said “Now, children, we will” — There he stopped, 
for not a child was to be seen, except little fat Downy, fast asleep. 
Uncle Jack stared about him. Posts, trees, house, but no children 
“ Sure they’re all gone, surr,” said John the coachman. “ ’Twould 
be as aisy to ketch the wind and kape it still as thim childher.” And 
John never said a truer word in his life. If my mirror were not so 
big, even I could not have seen them all. Nibble was up in a tree, 
of course, picking apple-blossoms, for which he ought to have been 
whipped. Indeed, the old tree did its best, for it caught him by the 
leg, and tore a hole in his new trousers, which was shocking to think 
of Then he found an old bird’s nest; and on the whole, the tree 
seemed so very “jolly” that he decided to stay there; so that was 
why Uncle Jack did not see him when he looked round. Brighteyes, 

after seeing her 
brother safely up 
in the tree, flew 
off like a bird, here 
and there and 
everywhere. First 
she filled both 
hands with dan¬ 
delions. Then she 
saw a butterfly; 
down went the 
dandelions; off 
went her best hat to serve as a butterfly-net; and away she went. A 





NIBBLE IN THE APPLE TREE. 

















































































































































































































































. 






























































































































































THE MICE. 


27 


pretty chase Master Butterfly led her, through last year’s brambles 
and this year’s mud, until at last he left her high and dry on the top 
of a fence, and flew off so fast that he was soon out of sight. There 
I left her too, for I wanted to see what the twin mice were about. 

I looked this way and that, but they were nowhere to be seen. At 
length I caught a glimpse of something blue, among some very thick 
bushes. I looked closer, and saw a sight that was truly melancholy. 
Among these bushes stood a huge old wooden trough, which old 
Jonas had built to receive the water that bubbled out of a spring close 
by. So the trough was full of water, and this being the case, of 
course Fluff the unlucky had fallen into it. How she had done it I 
do not know, but there she was, splashing about in fine style. 

“ Give me your hand, Fluffy, and I’ll pull you out! ” said Puff. 

“Oh! no, you can’t! ” cried poor little Fluff. “You’re not any 
bigger as I am, Puffy, and I’m so wet I feel very heavy.” 

And no wonder she did, for she had on a long thick coat which 
was completely soaked. But Puffy was very sure about it. She gave 
a great pull, and Fluff made a scramble, and out she came, knocking 
Puff down and tumbling on top of her. Well, they were both wet 
enough when they got up. Just then a very loud and strange noise 
was heard. At least, it was strange to me, but the children cried 
“ Oh j the rattle, the rattle! ” and away they scampered towards the 
house, as fast as they could go. 

Poor Uncle Jack! he had been working hard all the afternoon, 
with John and Thomas, (who had come in a cart with the other 
servants and the trunks and the dogs), clearing away rubbish and 
unpacking furniture, while Mrs. Posset and the maids were busy in 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP, 


28 

the house. He had been rather glad to have the children out ol 
the way for a little while, but now that it was six o’clock, and tea was 
laid in the dining-room, and a bright wood fire blazing in the great 
open fireplace, he began to wonder where his chickens were. 

“ Bless me! ” he said. ‘‘Where is the rattle ? ” and opening a bag, 
he took out a huge watchman’s rattle, and sprung it briskly, making 
the strange loud noise that Puff and Fluff had heard down by the 
spring. Presently he heard a voice, then another, and then another. 
“ Here I am, Uncle!” “What is the matter, Uncle Jack?” “Hi l 
supper! come on, Brighteyes! ” and up scampered from all direc¬ 
tions, the four mice in about as pretty a plight as mice can well be 
in. Brighteyes was panting for breath and limping, one shoe gone, 
no hat, and any number of scratches. Puff and Fluff were wet, and 
muddy, and forlorn beyond description ; while with Nibble the only 
question was, which was bigger, his knickerbockers or the hole in 
them. 

Uncle Jack held up his hands in amazement, and then sat down 
on a packing-box and laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks. 
“ Oh ! you children, you children ! ” he cried. “ This is what comes 
of bringing you to the country to keep you out of mischief. Go in 
to Mrs. Posset at once, give her my compliments, and tell her I wish 
her Joy of you. And as soon as you are fit to be seen, come down 
to supper, or Downy and I will eat it all up.” 

Away went the mice into the house and upstairs, where Mrs. Pos¬ 
set scolded, and brushed, and washed, and wiped and mended to an 
alarming extent. The trunk in which Nibble’s clothes were packed 
had not yet arrived, so the young gentleman had to wait after the 


THE MICE . 


29 


others were gone down to tea, while Mary, the housemaid, mended 
his trousers. 



Bread and butter and raspberry jam are always good, but they 
must have seemed particularly good that evening to those five hungry 
















































3 <> 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


mice. Little Downy soon finished his bowl of bread and milk, 
and was just thinking about some jam when Mrs. Posset appeared 
in the doorway. I have a great respect for Mrs. Posset. She is 
very faithful, and as fond of the mice as if they were her own 
children; but I do wish she would not wear green and yellow 
ribbons in her cap. It makes her look so like a stout elderly daffodil, 
but that is neither here nor there. She appeared in the door-way 
and looked at Downy. Downy looked at her, but did not move. 
Then Mrs. Posset said, “ Downy come with his Possy, and put on 
his ittle nightcoatie, and go to his ’ittle beddy-house ? ” (That’s 
another thing, she always talks to that mouse as if he and she 
were both idiots). “No!” said Downy. “Not want any beddy- 
house. Possy go away! ” “ Come, Downy,” said his uncle. You 

have had a long day, little man, and bed is the best place for you. 
Nice bed! I wish I were in mine.” “ Not nice ! ” cried Downy. 
“ Naughty bed! take it away! A-a-a-ah ! ” and the poor little boy, 
who was really tired out, began to scream and cry lustily. “ Hush! ” 
cried Uncle Jack hastily. “Hush, Downy! the bed will hear you, 
and then who knows what may happen ? ” Downy paused a moment 
and looked at his uncle in astonishment. “ What do you mean. 
Uncle Jack?” asked Brighteyes. “Beds cannot hear.” 

“ Perhaps their posts are their ears,” said Fluff. 

“ Oh! Fluffy,” said Puff, “ you know their posts are their legs, 
so they can’t be their ears.” 

But Uncle Jack looked very grave, and said, “Have you never 
heard the story of Little Willy and his bed ? listen "Len, and I will 
tell it to you.” 



MRS. POSSE' 1I \ 








































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































THE MICE. 


33 


“ One night, little Willy thought he did not want to go to bed. 
In fact, he felt very sure about the matter. He had had his supper 
and it was half past six o’clock. There was his bed, standing firmly 
on its four fluted yellow legs, the white sheet turned down, and the 
pillow plumped up, looking as inviting as a bed possibly could; but 

into it little Willy would not 
go. First he kicked, and then 
he screamed, and then he did 
both together. ‘ I wont go to 
bed ! ’ he cried. ‘ I hate my 
bed ! it’s cold, and horrid, and 
ugly. I will never get into it! 
naughty bed! ’ 

“Hewas lying on the floor, 
kicking the bed as hard as he 
could, when suddenly what do 
you think happened ? I shall 
shock you very much, but it 
is best that you should know. 
The bed began to move! slowly it lifted its fluted yellow legs, 
slowly it marched across the room until it reached the window, 
and then, if you will believe me, it coolly marched out of the window, 
and thump ! thump ! thump! off it went down the street. 

“ Little Willy ran to the window, and looked out, with eyes and 
mouth wide open, in great surprise. Yes, it was really true. The 
bed was gone ; there it went, tramping down the middle of the street. 
Its pillow had fallen a little to one side, which gave it a jaunty and 






34 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP 


rakish air. ‘Humph!’ said Willy. ‘Well, I’m glad the ugly old 
thing is gone. Now I shall not have to go to bed at all/ 

‘ That was all very well for an hour or so, but after that the 

little boy began 
to grow very 
sleepy in spite 
of himself. He 
rubbed his eyes, 
he yawned, he 
tried to shake 
himself broad 
awake, but it 
was of no use. 
For some time 



longer he fought 
against the 
sleepiness, but 
at last he went 
to his mother, 
looking vzry 
much ashamed, 
and said: 

‘ Please, imm- 
( ma, I want to go 
to bed! ’ ‘I am very sorry, Willy,’ said his mother; ‘ but you have 
no bed to go to. You have driven away your good bed by 
ill-treatment, and now you must sit up all night/ 

















THE MICE. 


35 


Poor little Willy! he tried to go to sleep in a chair, but his 
head kept tumbling backward or forward and waking him. 
Oh! he was wretchedly uncomfortable, and finally he burst into 
tears. * Oh! my dear bed! ’ cried he. 4 My nice, soft, warm, 
pretty bed! why did I ever treat you so badly ? oh ! dear good bed, 
if you will only come back to me, I will never, never call you 
names again.’ Oh! oh! oh! how tired I am, and cold, and — 5 but 
suddenly he stopped crying, for he thought he heard a noise out¬ 
side. He listened. Yes, through the open window came a faint 
sound — thump ! thump ! thump ! Willy flew to the window. Oh 
joy! there was the bed, stumping back up the street on its fluted 
yellow legs. Back it came, in at the window and across the room, 
till it stood in its accustomed place. In about three minutes Willy’s 
head was on the pillow, and I believe he has never called his 
bed names since.” 

“Why! bless me!” said Uncle Jack, looking down. “Here is 
Downy asleep too. Let us go upstairs and see if his bed is there all 
right. I hope it did not hear what he said about it, for you see they 
are sensitive fellows, these beds. Now then, up we go! I will carry 
Downy, Mrs. Posset, and do you bring Puff and Fluff with you, for it 
is high time that they were in bed too.” 

Well, Uncle Jack is a very wise man in most things, but I should 
have thought he would have known better than to try the cat- 
stairs for the first time at night, with a candle in one hand, and 
a child in his arms. At the first step he bumped his own head; at 
the second he bumped the child’s head; at the third he bumped the 
candle, and put it out, so there he was in the dark. A sad plight he 


FIVE MICE IN A MO USE-TEAR 




would have been in if it had not been for my beams; but two or 
three of the boldest and most skilful of them popped down through 
the skylight and showed him the way up: for which, by the way 
he might have thanked them, but I dare say he did not think of 
ij„ After stumbling over a trunk, and a chair, and nearly break¬ 
ing his nose against the edge of a door, poor Uncle Jack finally 
reached the large room, which he had chosen to be “the nursery. 
Puff and Fluff, who had tumbled up behind him, looked eagerly 
to see if Downy’s bed was there. Yes, there it stood, drawing 
its white curtains primly round it, and looking very amiable. Fluff 
gave a sigh of relief. 

“ Oh,” she said, “ I was so afraid it had heard what Downy 
said.” 

“ I think, perhaps, it is a little deaf,” said Puff. “ It never seems 
to mind, and yet he calls it all sorts of names sometimes.” 

“Can a thing be deaf in its legs, Uncle Jack?” asked 
Fluff. 

But Uncle Jack began to laugh, and that hurt Fluffs feelings, ao 
she said nothing more. And now Mrs. Posset came, and the three 
dear fittle mice were soon snugly tucked up in bed; the twins 
togeuier, with their arms round each other’s necks, and little Downy 
curled up alone in his pretty white nest, the sweetest mouse that 
ever was seen. 

Ah! now it was my turn. As soon as Mrs. Posset had left the 
room, down I came post-haste, on Flash, my swiftest beam. I sat 
down on Fluff’s pillow, and soon introduced myself to the little mice. 
They were fast asleep, of course, but that is the best time to take 



t 


DOWNY ASLEEP IN HIS 






































































































































































































































































































































































































THE MICE. 


39 


children. In fact, I never can get on with them when they are 
awake, their heads are full of so many things. “ Yes,” I said, “ I 

really am the Man in the 
Moon. I live in a silver 

palace-” 

“ Really silver ? ” asked 
Puff. 

“ Yes, really silver, 
from top to bottom, from roof to cellar, 
walls and floors, tables and chairs, dishes 
and spoons are all silver, as bright as Flash, 
who is dancing about the room here.” 

“ I should think a silver bed would be 
rather hard,” said Fluff. 

M Not when it has a cloud mattress and 
pillow,” I replied. “ That makes it soft 
enough, I can tell you.” 

Then I told them how the clouds were 
divided into three classes, and how one 
kind was good to sleep on, and another 
good to ride on, and the third good (very 
good, too,) to eat.” 

“ Does it taste like the white part in floating island?” asked 
Fluff 

“ Rather like it, but a great, great deal nicer, more like whipped 
cream.” 



“ And is that all you have to eat ?” 







4 o 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


“ Oh, no! I have ice cream whenever I want it. All the 
mountains up here are covered with ice cream instead of snow, 
and I have only to send a beam out a few steps and I have all I 
want; pink or white, or any color I choose.” 

“Oh, how lovely!” sighed Fluff. “Tell us more, Mr. Moon- 
man ! ” 

So I told them about my neighbors, the stars, and my elder brother 
in the Sun, with his splendid palace of gold and diamond. We are 
very fond of each other, but we cannot often visit each other, so 
we send letters and messages by the comets, who come and go, or 
by the merry meteors. 

Well, well, how many questions they did ask, those mice. I had 
been telling them about my big mirror, and “ Oh ! ” cried Puff, 
“ can you really see all the people in the world ? ” 

“Yes, indeed, but not all at once. As I tip my glass this way or 
that, so I see this place or that place. Yesterday I saw a fine sight, 
I can tell you.” 

“Oh! what was it? what was it?” cried the three mice. 

“ You shall hear,” I said, “ if you will be quiet. Listen now, for 
it is nearly time for me to go home, and Flash is looking pale. 

“ Well, I saw some wolves go to a concert, and that is more than 
any of you ever saw, I’ll warrant. In a certain wild part of northern 
Germany, there lived three good brothers whom I know very well. 
Their names are Hans, Karl, and Wilhelm; and they are musicians 
by trade; that is to say, Hans plays on the violoncello, which is a 
very big fiddle, about half as big as himself, while Wilhelm has a 
small fiddle, and Karl toots away on a kind of little brass trumpet 




THE MICE. 


41 


called a cornet. So, now you know about the men as if you had 
seen them, for they do nothing in the world but play on their several 
instruments. Now, yesterday there was to be a wedding, and the 
three brothers were asked to come and play for the guests to dance. 
Their way led through a wild and gloomy forest, where many wild 
beasts roamed about; but the three started merrily, and strolled 
along singing and talking together. Suddenly they stopped singing, 
for they heard a noise that was not so pleasant as their song; it was 
a long, low howl, and soon came another, and another. Then they 



knew that the wolves were coming, and their hearts sank within 
them. Anxiously they looked about them. They were in an open 
space in the wood. Now a rustling was heard, and out came a 
gray wolf and looked at them. The teeth of the three brothers 








42 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


chattered in their heads ; it was like the sound of castanets, as I 
hear them played in Spain by the black-eyed dancing-girls. Another 
wolf came out, and he came yet nearer, and then two more. “If I 
had but my gun ! ” cried Hans. “If I had but my hunting-knife ! ” 
said Karl. “ Ah ! brothers/’ said Wilhelm, “ we have nothing, so 
we must die. Nevertheless, let us die merrily, so take your instru¬ 
ments and we will play a tune for these beasts, that we may all 
dance together.” 

So the three brothers took their instruments, the big fiddle, and 
the little fiddle, and the trumpet, and began to play. As the first 



notes sounded the wolves stopped short. Seeing this, the brothers 
played the faster a merry waltz which they had meant to play at 







THE MICE . 


43 


the wedding. “Tra-la-la! tra-la-la!” gaily rang out the notes in 
the clear air, while the musicians, teeth rattled like the castanets, 
and their limbs trembled, and their hands could scarcely hold the 
instruments ; for they were playing for their lives, you see ! yes, 
and they won the game, for the wolves, who were not used to 
concerts, did not know what to make of this sort of thing. They 
began to be frightened, to wonder what strange beasts these were, 
with such wild voices. They looked at each other and drew back a 
step or two, it was well to be near the forest in any case. Further 
and further they retired toward the shade of the trees, and finally, 
as the music changed to a furious jig, and the trumpet sounded 
out like the scream of a panther, the terrified wolves turned tail 
and ran as fast as their fright and their four legs could carry them. 
Off as fast in the opposite direction ran also Hans, Karl, and 
Wilhelm, playing as they went. They played and ran, ran and 
played till they reached the open fields and the houses ; and then 
they sat down under a haystack and did not move for the rest of 
the day. Ah ! that was a fine concert! but there was no music 
at the wedding, which is sad to think of.” 

With that I kissed my three mice, and bade them good¬ 
night, though it was nearly morning; then mounting my moonbeam 
I whisked away,and soon left mice and mouse-trap far behind. 



Wake ! wake ! children, wake ! 
Here we’re singing for your sake. 
Chirrup ! chirrup ! chirrup ! chee ! 
Sweet a song as sweet can be. 


Rise ! rise ! children, rise ! 

Shake the poppies from your eyes, 
Sweet! sweet! chirrup ! tweet! 
Morning blossoms at your feet. 


Song and sweetness, dawn and dew, 
All are waiting now for you. 

Wake ! wake ! children, wake ! 

Here we’re singing for your sake. 





















CHAPTER IV. 


JOLLYKALOO. 

Now is not that a pretty song ? and so simple, I should think a 
baby might understand it. And yet Downy did not seem to 
understand a word of it, though the birds that sang it were just 
outside his window in the great linden-tree. 

He only said, “ Oh ! so pitty bird finging ! ” (he cannot say S, so 
he says F instead, which sounds very funny). And then he rolled 
out of bed ; and then Fluff and Puff rolled out of bed. Puff ran to 
the window and put Back the curtains. The birds were still singing, 
and the soft May breeze was blowing, and a perfect gust of song 
and sweetness came in at the little old window as she pushed it 
open. 

“Oh! lovely, lovely! ” cried Puff. And look, Fluffy, from this 
other window. What a fine play-ground! Oh ! Possy, do give us 
tubby-rubby quickly, and let us get out of the window ! ” 

“ Out of the window ! ” cried Mrs. Posset; “ The child is mad ! ” 
but then she came and looked for herself. 

Yes, it was indeed a fine place. One part of the house was lower 
than the rest, and this lower part had a flat roof, covered with gravel, 
and with an iron railing round it. Two of the nursery windows 
opened directly on this sunny flat place, so that it really was a most 



*5 FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP, 

delightful spot. In a very few minutes there were three mice 
tumbling about on the gravel, and then presently there were two 
more, for other windows opened on the flat roof also, and Nibble 
and Brighteyes were not the mice to be behindhand when any fun 
was going on. Ah! that was the way to get an appetite for 
breakfast. Jump, dance, run, tumble, till the rattle sounded from 
below; then whirr! downstairs all like a flock of pigeons. They 
never lost any time in getting from one place to another, these mice 
“ Uncle Jack,” said Nibble, “ What shall we call this place ? ” 

“ This dear, delightful place ! ” cried Brighteyes. 

“ Dis dear, ’lightful plafe! ” murmured Downy, with his mouth 
full of bread-and-butter. 

“ Well,” said Uncle Jack, “ now let us see. It certainly ought to 
have a name.” 

“ Oh! of course ! ” said all the mice very decidedly. 

“ Suppose we call it the Garden House,” said Uncle Jack. 

“ Oh, no ! ” said Nibble. “That isn’t jolly enough, Uncle Jacket! 
it’s such a jolly place, you know. I want to call it Jollykaloo ! ” 

And then in a chorus rose the five voices, “Jollykaloo! Jolly¬ 
kaloo ! ” so Jollykaloo it was named then and there, and it has 
been called so ever since. 

“ And now, children,” said Uncle Jack, when breakfast was over, 
“ We must go and see how our four-footed friends have passed 
the night. You may find some new friends too, I think, with two 

feet. Come Nibble, Brighteyes, Puff-” 

44 Uncle Jack,” said Puff, very gravely; “ Fluff and I have not 
unpacked the dolls yet, and I think it is both of our duty to take 


JOLLYKALOO. 


47 


care of our children first, before we see the animals. Don’t you 
think so, Uncle ? ” 

“Both of your duty, eh?” said Uncle Jack, laughing. “Well, 
Puffsy, perhaps it is. It is also both of your duty to learn grammar, 
but you need not begin just yet. Off with you ! ” 

So the twins went one way, and Uncle Jack went the other. 
Which way shall I take you first, all you ether children ? shall we 
follow the twins first, and take a peep at the dolls ? by all means! 



I cannot say that I care much for dolls myself, but I always like 
to see what interests children, and certainly Puff* and Fluff did 
take great interest in their china and wax babies. By and by 
I shall have some funny stories to tell you about these dolls, for 
they have seen more of life than any dolls that I have ever known, 
but we will not stop now, for we all want to go and see the animals, I 
We will just take a peep at them and see what they are like. 


am sure. 








4 8 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


See, here they are, six of them. The one sitting in the chair, with 
curls and flowers, is Vashti Ann. She was the head doll at that time, 
and a person of great importance. Next to her is Tina, her daughter, 



a fine baby rather larger than her mother ; and then comes Rosaiie, 
a Swiss doll, with fine long hair. The doll in the lower left-hand 
corner is the unfortunate Sally Bradford, the maid-of-all-work; next 
comes Fanny Ellsler, the dancer, and the last is Katinka, a Polish 
lady of high rank. 

The dear little twin mice unpacked all these creatures with the 
utmost care. 

“ I think they are all ill after the journey, Puff! ” said Fluffy, with 
a sigh. 

“ We was better put them all to bed. Tina is very pale, and 
Rosalie is very red.” 


JOLLYKALOO . 


49 


“ Then one has a chill, and the other has a fever,” said Puff. 

“ Yes, they must go to bed; and I will get the bed ready, Fluffy, 
if you will read them a story to amoose them.” 

“ Oh! but, Puffy, if you put them both in the same bed it will 
be chills-and-fever, and then we shall catch it and be ill ourselves! ” 
exclaimed Fluff with a distressed look. 

“ Fluff,” said Miss Puff severely; “You are sometimes a foolish 


child!" 


Well, Fluff knew that she was foolish, because she was often told 
so, and she was a child who always believed what was said to 
her, so she meekly sat down and read a story to the dolls. It 
was one of “ Aunt Bathsheba’s ” stories, and they are so funny 
that I always write them down when I hear them. Listen to 
this, now! 


THE PUDDING-STICK AND 
ROLLING-PIN 


That brought them soon to the sugar-bin’ 
side. 


We might as well try to storm the 
sky 1 ” 


u Oh ! how shall we reach that keyhole high 


Off they set with a fine bold stride, 


Said the Rolling-pin to the Pudding-stick 


“ We’ll eat and we’ll stuff till we make 
ourselves sick.” 


“ Let’s take a dip in the sugar-bin ! ” 


Said the Pudding-stick to the Rolling-pin 
















FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


5 ° 


“ Let me mount on your shoulder thin, 

And I’ll pick the lock ! ” said the bold Rolling-pin. 

The Pudding-stick swelled w ith angry pride, 

“ That my figure is fine has ne’er been denied, 
I’ll give you a slap for your impudence ! ” 

“ Well! ” said the Roller : “ This is 
immense ! ” 

So they rolled and they fought, 



They thumped and they hit. 

Till they trod on the tail of 
the cook’s pet kit. 


Then the cook rose up in dreadful wrath, 
And laid them out on the kitchen hearth.* n 





















































JOLLYKALOO . 


5 s 


There were fine doings in the garden all this time, as 1 found 
when I turned my eyes in that direction. Three mice and an 
uncle, (it would not be polit~ to call Uncle Jack a rat, and yet 
if a mouse’s uncle is not a rat, what is he, I should like to know ? ) 
and John and Thomas, and three dogs and two horses and a 
donkey, there were enough to make things lively, you will confess. 

The dogs interested me particularly, as I have a dog of my own, 
you know. Ah ! he is a good fellow, that dog of mine! His name 
is Bmfkmgth, and none of you will be able to pronounce that, 
except the children who live in Wales. It is rather a hard name, 
but he came from the Dog Star, and the language there is somewhat 
difficult. Say it to your dogs, however, and see if they do not wag 
their tails. Yes, they understand each other Bmfkmgth is green, 
a color that I never see in dogs on your planet; but that may be 
because he eats so freely of the green cheese which grows here 
instead of grass. 

Well, there were three dogs at Jollykaloo, as perhaps I said 
before. There was Gruff the big dog, and Grim the middle-sized 
dog, and Grab, the little dog. 

Gruff was a fine fellow, indeed ; -a great St. Bernard, clever and 
good-natured, and certainly with nothing gruff about him except his 
name and his bark. Indeed, it was well that he was of a cheerful 
turn of mind, for he had to take a good deal of rough usage, tho ugh 
it was only in play, to be sure. 

Fancy trying to drive three dogs tandem, all of different sizes 
and dispositions ! Yes, if you will believe me, that was what Nibble 
was trying to do when I looked down into the garden that morning 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


5* 

He had a very nice little cart which Thomas, the gardener, had made 
for him, and in this he often drove Gruff, who did not object at 
all to being harnessed, and in fact rather enjoyed dragging the 
children about. But when it came to having two other dogs har¬ 
nessed in front of him, dogs who could run about twice as fast as 
he could, and who took a fancy to sit down and scratch their ears 
just as he had started into a good swinging trot — that was rather 
more than Gruff could endure. But Nibble was full of his new sport. 

“ Downy, baby ! ” he cried, “ Come, Downy, and brother will 
give you a fine ride! come along, little man ! ” 

So Downy came toddling up, and Nibble lifted him into the 
-art, and then got in himself, and took the reins and the whip. 

“ Now, Downy boy, you shall have the best ride that any one 
ever had. Hi! my gallant steeds! Now Dasher, now Dancer, 
now Prancer! Oh, dear! ” cried Nibble, “ I wish I had eight 
reindeer like St. Nicholas, instead of only three dogs. But still 
I can say, 4 Now dash away, dash away, dash away all! ’ ” and the 
young charioteer stood up in the cart and waved the whip round 
his head, while Downy clapped his hands and shouted with glee. 
Yes, that was pride! but the fall also was not wanting. 

Away went the three dogs, poor old Gruff forced into a lumbering 
gallop by the pace of the two others, who capered along, and let 
the big old dog do all the pulling. Round the house they went 
once and twice, the little cart rocking from side to side in rather an 
alarming way. Then, as they came round the third time-— they saw a 
cat! Nibble saw it first, and tried like a clever mouse as he is, to turn 
his gallant steeds’ heads away before thev also saw it: but it was too 



OLD GRUFF 




















































































































































































































































JOLLYKALOO 


55 


late. “Yap! yap! yap!” went little Grab; “Woof! woof!” added 
Grim, struggling to free himself from the harness. Good old Gruff 
held out bravely for a moment or two ; but finally he could not resist. 

A mighty “ Bow , wow WOW!” a leap and 
a plunge, and then for a moment I could see 
nothing but a cloud of dust, from which came barks 
and shrieks which were truly dreadful to hear. In a 
moment, however, the cart luckily was caught between 
two bushes, and there it stuck, while the dogs rushed 
to the foot of the nearest apple-tree, to leap and 
howl there in vain excitement, while the peaceful cat 
smiled at them in safety from the topmost bough. 

At the moment the explosion took place, two 
people came upon the scene, one from the barn 
and one from the house. They were Uncle Jack 
and Mrs. Posset. The latter had happened 
out of the window just as the grand 
came round for the third time, and she had flown down stairs to 
rescue her Downy, but arrived only in time to snatch him from 
the ruins of the cart, very much frightened and covered with 
dust, and what was worse with blood, which flowed from a cut 
in his forehead. As for Uncle Jack, he had been very busy in 
the barn arranging matters with John and had supposed that 
Downy was quite safe with Nibble and Gruff to look after him. 

“ If you please, sir,” cried Mrs. Posset in an angry tone, “ what is 
to be done with Nibble ? this blessed child’s life is not safe with him 
for an instant, so it isn’t! putting three dogs tantrum (Mrs. Posset 




56 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


meant tandem, but she was too much vexed to think about her 
words,) with an innocent baby behind them and the garden as full 
of cats as his head is of mischief! ” and the good woman’s breath 
fairly failed her, from haste and vexation combined. Uncle Jack 
looked very grave as he came up. 

“ How did this happen, Nibble ? ” he asked. “ Mrs. Posset, if you 
will take Downy into the house and bathe his forehead, I will come 
in and find some court-plaster to put on that cut. Now my boy,” 
he added, turning to Nibble, “ tell me all about this ! ” 

Nibble hung his head and looked very much ashamed. 

“ I — I did have them tandem,” he said. “ I never thought of 
cats, and Downy likes to ride so much ! ” 

“ I am very sorry, Nibble! ” said Uncle Jack, “ I certainly thought 
I could trust you to take care of your little brother for ten minutes. 
There are plenty of ways of amusing a little child without putting 
him in danger of his life ; for Downy might have been very much 
hurt, perhaps even killed, and then you would never have forgiven 
yourself. Remember, my boy, that there is a great difference 
between three years and eight years, and that what may be harmless 
for you may be very dangerous for your little brother.” 

“ Indeed, Uncle, I am very sorry ! ” said Nibble earnestly; and I 
will try to be more careful. And — and what shall I do now, 
Uncle ? there isn’t any punishment tree here, is there ? ” 

This question puzzled me at the time, but I found out afterwards 
that in the place where they had lived before, there was one special 
tree into which Nibble always had to climb when he had been 
naughty, and where he had spent many hours of penance. 


JOLLYKALOO. 


57 


Uncle Jack smiled kindly on the boy—I mean the mouse — and 
said “ I have not found one yet, dear child! but I think that 
if you were to spend the rest of the morning in the house, and try to 
console Downy for his bumps and bruises, it would be a very 
good thing.” 

Nibble looked grave at this. He would have preferred sitting in a 
tree, and hearing the birds sing, and wondering where their nests 
might be, and how many eggs there might be in them, to spend¬ 
ing the lovely, sunny morning in the house. But he went in without 
a word, remembering that Downy also had to stay in the house 
through his carelessness, and with aches and pains which he somehow 
had escaped. 

He found the baby mouse curled up on the sofa in the library, 
looking very forlorn, with a handkerchief tied round his head. Mrs. 
Posset was sitting beside him, reading to him, for though Downy 
was a very little boy, he was very fond of stories. His eyes 
brightened when he saw Nibble. “ Oh! Nibby! ” he cried. 
“ Did dey catf de cat ? ” 

'‘Indeed, I hope not! ” said Mrs. Posset. “ It is a strange thing 
in the nature of boys, that they like to see cats tormented.” 

“ But I don’t like to see them hurt, Mrs. Posset! ” said Nibble. 
4 ‘ It is fun to see them run, but the dogs never catch them, so 
no harm is done. And it is good for the cats to have a little 
exercise, I am sure, for they are lazy creatures.” 

“ Humph! ” said Mrs. Posset. “ Well, I am reading to Downy 
now, Master Nibble, so—” 

“ Wouldn’t you like me to take the book, Mrs. Posset ? ” asker? 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


S3 

Nibble. “ I must stay in the house till dinner, and I could read 
to Downy.” 

“ Oh ! yes, Nibby, read ! ” cried Downy. 

‘Very well, Master Nibble, and that is just what will please 
me. for I have not my spectacles by me, and the print troubles 
my eyes. Besides, the child’s clothes are torn to shrivers, (this was a 
pet word of Mrs. Posset’s, and I think she must have invented it 
herself,) and I must attend to them at once.” 

So Mrs. Posset, with an approving nod, trotted off to the nursery, 
and Nibble sat down by the sofa. 

“What shall I read, Downy boy?” he asked. 

“ Wead Pinfkin ! ” said Downy very decidedly. 

“ Princekin,” eh?” said Nibble, “Well, here it is, so listen! 
And perhaps, if you were to shut your eyes, Downy, you might 
see some of the pretty things that Princekin saw.” 

So Nibble opened the book, from which Mrs. Posset had beer 
reading, and read this little rhyme: 

PRINCEKIN. 

“ Princekin sits on his nursery throne, 

Prettiest Princekin, all alone, 

Sighing a sigh, and moaning a moan, 

‘ Oh — dear — me / oh ! * 

‘ Princekin beautiful, Princekin dear, 

Tell us your troubles, and do not fear! ’ 

* Nobody come, and nobody here, 

Nobody p’ay wiz me, oh ! 1 

e What! no little boys, and no little girls, 

To play with Princekin, pearl of pearls? 


JOLLYKALOO . 


59 


Then lift your head, with its crown of curls. 
And we’ll do better without, oh ! 

Open the window and call the flowers 


Birds and beasts from their trees and bowers, 
To come and play with this Prince of ours, 
And make him with laughter shout, oh ! * 


























FIVE MICE IN MOUSE-TRAP. 


" Princekin raises his sapphire eyes, 

Diamond tear-drop quickly dries, 

Stares and stares in such great surprise 
He doesn’t know what to do, oh ! 

In at the window, low and high, 

Hundreds of creatures creep and fly, 

Vines and flowerets clambering by, 

Of every shape and hue, oh ! 

“ Doves are lighting on Princekin’s knee, 
Close in his curls hums a honey bee, 

Roses are climbing around his wee 

Sweet hands, for to cling and kiss, oh 5 
Beetles hover on gauzy wing, 

Blue-bells, lily-bells, chime and ring, 
Bull-frogs whistle and robins sing, 

And see, what an owl is this, oh ! 

“ Squirrel is whispering in his ear, 
i Princekin beautiful, Princekin dear, 

Leave this stupid close nursery here, 

Come to the woods with me, oh ! * 
Daisy is murmuring at his feet, 

‘ Princekin lovely, and Princekin sweet, 
Come live with us, ’mid the corn and wheat. 
Out in the field so free, oh ! ’ 

* Round they flutter, and round they dance, 
Wheel and hover and creep and prance, 
Bird, beast, blossom, all bent on the chance 
Of winning the pearl of boys, oh ! 
Clinging and kissing o’er and o’er, 

Singing, chattering, more and more, — 

But oh / — who slammed the nursery door. 

And made such a dreadful noise, oh ! 

* * * * 

“ Princekin sits on his nursery throne. 
Prettiest Princekin, all alone. 


JOLLYKALOO. 


6* 

Sighing a sigh and moaning a moan, 

‘ Oh — dear — me, oh ! 

Had such a bootiful, bootiful p’ay ! 

No ! I not been as’eep, I say ! 

And now dem’s everyone gone away, 

Nobody left but me, oh ! ” ’ 

Then Nibble stopped reading, and closed the book softly, for 
Downy was just as fast asleep as Princekin had been. 

“ That is always the way! ” he said to himself. “ I never saw a 
child sleep so much in the daytime. In fact, there is no use in 
reading to him, unless you want him to go to sleep. But perhaps ” 
he added “ that is just what Mrs. Posset did want, and it is the best 
thing to do when one cannot go out of doors. Heigh ho! how 
pleasant it is out there ! I wonder where Brighteyes is! She might 
come in and stay with me, I think, if she knows I am in the house.” 



And Nibble sat down by the window, and looked mournfully out 
into the garden. 




























62 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


I also had been wondering where Brighteyes was, for I had 
not seen her since breakfast. I was just going to look in another 
part of the mirror, (for I can see the whole of the garden in it, 
and more too,) when I heard a deep sigh at my elbow. I turned, and 
saw my dog standing by, gazing into the mirror with a very wistful 
look. I followed the direction of his eyes, and saw that the cat was 
still up in the tree, and the dogs still at the foot of it. Gruff was tired 
of jumping, which indeed was not exactly in his line; and had 
gone quietly to sleep; but Grim and Grab kept up the game, 
occasionally lying down to rest and take breath, and then going at it 
again. 

“What ails thee, Bmfkmgth?” I asked. Doth the sight of the 
other dogs grieve thee ? ” 

“Nay, master! ” he answered. “ But oh ! I fain would have a cat 
to chase. Is there no Cat-Star, good master, whence thou couldst 
get me a cat ? see now, how merry these dogs have been ! ” 

“Truly/’ I replied, “there is no Cat-Star; and if there were, thou 
wouldst be none the better off, for I would not have such noise 
and strife in my quiet home. Art thou not happy ? here thou hast no 
work to do ; canst eat green cheese all day, if it please thee, and sport 
with the merry beams which my brother Sun sends over. Perhaps 
thou wouldst like to go back to the Dog Star, whence thou 
earnest. There thou hadst work enough and to spare, for thou 
wast servant to Prince Canis, and he is a hard master.” And 1 
tipped the mirror, so that we could see Sirius (which is the name of 
that star,) and what was going on in it. There sat Prince Canis on 
his throne, richly dressed. Hundreds of servants bowed before him, 


JOLLYKALOO . 


63 


or hurried hither and thither to do his bidding. He spoke harshly 
to them, and flourished a huge whip, which was his sceptre, about 
their ears, making them howl with pain. 

“ Wilt thou go back ? ” I asked. 

“ Oh, no, no ! ” cried the dog, shrinking back. “ Tip the glass 
away, my master, lest he see me and carry me off! I promise thee 
1 will never complain again ! ” 

“That is well!” I said. “ And if thou wantest something to chase, 
thou mayest chase me, though that would not be very exciting. So 
now, we will look for Brighteyes, and see what has become of the 
child.” 

I tipped the glass, and again the garden blossomed before me, 
sunny and bright, shining with grass-emerald and dandelion gold, 
under the drifts of apple-blossoms. Yes, it was a pretty sight, and 
whichever way I may tip my glass, I see no prettier sight than 
this garden, in the spring of the year. 




Brightkyes had been spending the 
morning with Tomty of course ; anyone might 
have known that, for she was always with 
Tomty whenever she could not be found any¬ 
where else. Tomty was the gardener, and his 
real name was Thomas Wilson, but the mice thought 
that Tomty was a much better name, and I think so 
too. He was the kindest gardener that ever lived, 
I think, and I have seen a good many. He liked 
nothing better than to have all the five mice trotting 
at his heels while he went about his work. They 
might hide his shears, and run off with his trowel, and 










70MTY. 


6S 


take his rake and hoe for hobbyhorses, but Tomty was never out 
of patience with them. 

“ Sure, they’re young things ! ” he used to say. “ Let them enjoy 
themselves now, for they’ll be older before they’re younger! ” Which 
was a very sensible remark. 

“Tomty! ” said Brighteyes. 

“ Yes, miss.” 

“ I want to go into the barn-yard again to see Jose.” 

“ And that is just where I am going, miss,” said Tomty ; “ so if 
you will sit in the wheelbarrow, I’ll give you a ride! ” so Brighteyes 
jumped into the wheelbarrow and was wheeled off in fine style. 

“ Do you know who invented the wheelbarrow, Tomty ? ” she 
asked as they went along. 

“ Yes miss,” replied Tomty. “ Hiram Deluce made this one, 
miss.” 

“ I don’t mean this one,” said Brighteyes. “ I mean the first one 
that ever was made. It was a great painter, one of the greatest 
painters that ever lived, only I can’t remember his name. Uncle Jack 
told me about him.” 

“YesMiss!” said Tomty. “More likely a ^r-painter, Miss. I 
don’t know what a painter would want of a barrow, unless to paint it, 
and that’s soon done.” 

A car-painter! Brighteyes thought that was very funny, and she 
thought Tomty was very clever. 

But now they were in the barn-yard, and she straightway forgot 
about wheel-barrows and painters, for Jose, the little brown donkey, 
was loose, and was trying with might and main to open the further 


66 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


gate of the yard, a trick of which he was extremely fond, and in which 
he certainly excelled. 

“ Oh ! Tomty,” cried Brighteyes, “ shut the gate, and let us catch 
Jos£. Naughty donkey, how did you get out? Come here*good 
Jose! come here, poor fellow ! ” But Jose (that is a Spanish name, 
by the way, and is pronounced Hosay,) had no idea of going there. 

“ I wont! ” he said. I wo -horit! go away -hay /” and up went his 
heels, higher than ever. It must be very provoking to animals to 
have human beings pay absolutely no attention to their remarks. 
Really, it is so stupid sometimes. There was Jose, speaking quite 
distinctly for a donkey, and Brighteyes only clapped her hands to 
her ears and cried “ Oh! what a dreadful bray! ” and in the barn, 
meanwhile, Pollux, the off horse, was saying to John, over and over 
again, “ I don’t like this stall, John ! please give me another. And 
do loosen this strap a little, for it makes my head ache.” To 
which John replied, “So, boy! quiet now!” which must have 
been extremely aggravating. 

Why, I saw a little girl once,— a little German girl she was, named 
Hannchen,— sit for half an hour listening with great delight to a bird 
which was singing away with all its might, perched on a neighboring 
twig. And what do you think the bird was saying in its song ? 

“You horrid little monster, why will you not go away ? I want to 
get some caterpillars from that tree behind you, and I cannot get 
at them while you are there. My children are waiting for their 
dinner, and though I have asked you fifty times, as politely as I could, 
to move, you will not stir, but just sit there and look silly. Oh ! you 
provoking little creature! I should like to peck you! ” And little 



JOSE OPENING THE GATE. 



























































































































































































TOMTY. 


69 


Hannchen, smiling, said “ thank you, pretty bird, for your sweet 
song! ” 

It was quite a 
piece of work to 
catch Master Jose, 
but John came out 
to help Thomas and 
finally the obstinate 
little brown gentle¬ 
man was fairly cor¬ 
nered, and had to 
submit to the halter. 

“ Poor fellow ! ” 
said Brighteyes. 

“ It must seem very 
hard to be tied up 
all the time. I am 
sure I should not 
like to have a strap round my nose, Tomty, and stand all day with 
nothing but the barn walls to look at.” 

“ And indeed you would not, Miss! ” replied Tomty gravely. 
“ But sure no one would go for to put a strap round a little lady’s 
nose, Miss, let alone putting her in the barn.” 

“Oh ! you funny Tomty! ” cried Brighteyes. “ I meant, if I were 
a donkey, of course ! ” 

“ Yes, Miss! but you see you are not a donkey,” said Tomty 
placidly. “And now I must go back to the flower-beds again, 





70 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


Miss Brighteyes,” he added. “And will you go with me, Miss, 
or shall I leave you here ? ” 

“ Well, Tomty, I think I will stay here for a little while and talk to 
the chickabiddies. I don’t think they know me yet, and I want them 
to know me and love me, for Uncle Jack says I may feed them every 
morning. You won’t be lonely without me, will you, Tomty ? ” 

“Well, Miss, I’ll do my best! ” said Tomty. 

With which rather vague remark the good man took up his wheel¬ 
barrow and departed, leaving Brighteyes alone in the barn-yard. 
Alone, that is, except for the fowls. They had just arrived that 
morning, and they evidently did not feel at home in their new 
quarters. The hens were scratching and bustling about in great 
excitement, while one of the roosters, standing on top of the fence, 
preached them a sermon on keeping their tempers. 

“Be calm!” he said. “Be calm, 
my dears ! haste makes waste. Observe 
my tranquil demeanor! the truly great 
are calm in the midst of strife.” 

And he shut one eye, and looked at 
Brighteyes with the other, as much as 
to say “ What do you think of that ? 
it’s nothing to what I can do if I try! ” 
but Brighteyes burst out laughing, and 
said “ Chook-a-raw-che-raw ! ” I can say that too, Mr. Rooster, so 
you need not be so proud.” 

At this the rooster was deeply offended, and withdrew to a corner 
of the vard, muttering to himself. 



TOMTY. 


7 1 

Presently Brighteyes spied three fowls, two hens and an old rooster, 
who apparently were too sleepy to care where they were, for they had 
all gone to sleep, sitting side by side on a rail, and very funny 
they looked. 

“ Oh ! ” said Brighteyes. Don’t they look just like the sixty- 
five parrots asleep in a row, in the “ Four Little Children who 
went round the world ? ” “ Dont you remember ? ” she went on, 
half to herself and half to the other fowls, “ the Pussy-Cat and 
the Quangle-Wangle crept softly, and bit off the tail-feathers of 
all the sixty-five parrots; for which Violet reproved them both 
severely. Notwithstanding which, she proceeded to insert all the 
feathers—two-hundred and sixty in number — in her bonnet; 
thereby causing it to have a lovely and glittering appearance, 
highly— well, I forget the rest,” said she, “ for the words are 
very long. 

How pretty some of those tail-feathers would look in my hat! ” 
she continued. “ I shouldn’t like to bite them 
off, but I might pull some out, for there are 
so many they would never be missed. Just 
a few out of each tail, you know; and I am 
sure they wouldn’t mind, if they knew it was 
to make my hat have a lovely and glittering 
appearance. One good smart pull, now — ” 
and suiting the action to the word, she tugged 
with might and main at the tail of the old 
rooster. But the old rooster had apparently never read the 
story about Violet and the sixty-five parrots ; for instead of submitting 



72 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


meekly to having his tail-feathers pulled out, he woke up in a 
great rage and fright, and uttering a tempest of “ ka-ka-kaaa-ka-raws” 
he flew directly in Brighteye’s face. 

Greatly terrified, Bright- 
eyes staggered backward, 
and sat down violently 
in a tub filled with hay. 

Yes, that would have 
been very well, if there 
had been nothing beside 
hay in it. But, unfor¬ 
tunately, Uncle Jack had 
bought with these fowls 
some eggs of a peculiar 
kind, from which he 
hoped to get a very fine 
brood of chickens ; and he had made a fine nest for them in 
this tub and left them till one of the hens should take a fancy 
to them. 

Well, that was all over now. Brighteyes heard the crash, and 
knew that something dreadful must have happened. The angry 
rooster was fluttering and pecking at her feet, and the poor mouse, 
half-wild with fright, sprang up once more and rushed out of the 
barnyard, forgetting in her haste to shut the gate behind her. She 
never stopped till she had gained the shade of the apple-trees, and 
there she sat down panting on the grass. 

“ Oh dear ! ” she cried, “ I will never try to do things out of story- 




TOMTY. 


73 


books again as long as I live. Whenever I do it, I am sure to get 
into trouble. The other day Uncle Jack showed me a picture in 
Punch , of some children putting out their tongues when they 
met the doctor, and he laughed, and said it was very funny, and so it 
was: so then the next time I met our doctor, I put out my 
tongue, but he didn’t laugh, and Mrs. Posset put red pepper on 
my tongue, to teach me better manners. And now, just because 
I wanted to do what Violet did, all these dreadful things have 
happened. But oh! ” and she sprang to her feet, “ I must do 
something about my dress, or Mrs. Posset will say, I am “ a sight 
to behold! ” She always says that, and I am so tired of hearing 
it. If I were to roll on the grass, now! we always wipe our 
shoes on the grass, when they are muddy, before we go into the 
house.” 

Certainly, the dress was in a very forlorn condition, being covered 
with egg behind, while the front of the skirt showed a number of 
dismal rents made by the beak and claws of the angry rooster. 
I did not think it would be improved by rolling on the grass, but 
I could not well do anything about it. 

A pretty sight Miss Brighteyes was when she got up again. Egg 
and grass and mud were worked and rolled together into an even 
tint of brownish green, all over her skirts, while through the holes 
her scarlet petticoat looked out indignantly, blushing for its owner’s 
misdeeds. At least, that is what my dog said about it, and he has a 
very pretty way of putting things. However, Missy Mouse was 
quite satisfied that she had done all she could in the matter, so 
she went on her way rejoicing. 


74 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


Presently she heard voices, and she came upon Puff and Fluff, who, 
having put all their children to sleep, had come out to spend 
the rest of the bright, sunny morning in the garden. They had got 
out their gardening tools, and were hard at work in one of 
the flower-beds. 

“What are you doing, Twinnies?” asked Brighteyes as she 
came up. “ And where is Tomty ? ” 

“ Tomty is gone to his dinner,” answered Puff. “ And we are 
trying to do all his work for him before he comes back.” 

“Yes!” said Fluff, “ because he often helps us, you know, and 
so we ought to help him.” 



“ But what are all those funny-looking things sticking up ? ” 
Brighteyes asked, stooping over the bed. 

“Well, sister, those are the roots of the plants,” said Puff. “We 






















TOMTY. 


n 

heard Tomty say that what the plants needed now was sun, and so 
we thought the roots ought to have some sun too. So we have 
been turning them upside down to save Tomty the trouble.” 

“ Save Tomty the trouble, indeed! ” said Brighteyes. “ Why, 
you naughty little mice, you have made twice as much trouble for 
him. The roots don’t want any sun, they like to be in the dark, 
just like owls and bats. Now you have been naughty, and Uncle 
Jack will punish you.” 

Poor little twin mice! they looked very grave indeed. Fluffy’s 
eyes filled with tears, and she began to rub them with her little 
grimy hands, which did not improve her appearance. But Puff 
said bravely: 

“ They do not look a bit like owls, Brighteyes, or like bats either; 
but if you are really sure that they ought to be in the ground, we 
will put them back again. 

“ Well, here comes Tomty himself! ” cried Brighteyes, “ and you 
win see what he says. “ See, Tomty! ” she went on. “ These 
naughty twinnies have been turning the plants upside down, and 
spoiling them! ” 

“ But we didn’t mean to spoil them, Tomty! ” cried the twins 
eagerly. “ We thought the roots ought to have the sun, and we 
only wanted to save you the trouble, Tomty dear! and we are so 
sorry! ” 

Tomty rubbed his left ear, which he always did when he was 
put out. At least a dozen of his best plants were ruined, but he 
could not scold the little mice, whose little piteous faces were turned 
up to him imploringly. 


76 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


“ Well, well! ” he said. “ To be sure! isn’t that a pity now! but 
they’re young things, they’re young things ! never you mind, Missies, 
this time, for there are plenty more plants. But remember: 

“ ‘ Roots and moles, where’er they’re found, 

Like to burrow in the ground.’ ” 

“ Oh! yes, you good Tomty, we will remember ! ” cried the twins. 
“ And we will turn them all back again as quickly as we can.” 

“Well, Missies, you may do that,” replied Tomty, “though its 
all one now to them plants if they’re on their heads or their 
heels. But Miss Brighteyes,” he continued, turning to the elder 
mouse, who was looking on with an air of superior wisdom : “ it’s not 
my place to speak about the little ladies’ clothes, Miss, but whatever 
will Mrs. Posset say when she sees your frock? and the barn¬ 
yard gate open, too, and the fowls all over the place! ” 

Brighteyes hung down her head and blushed as red as her 
petticoat: then, without saying a word, she turned away, and walked 
slowly toward the house. 

Yes, she had been very naughty, much naughtier than the twins, 
whom she had been blaming; and now she would go directly in 
to Mrs. Posset and tell her all about it, and say she was very 
sorry. 

That was what she thought as she walked along, and that was 
what she meant to do, doubtless; but dear me! sometimes I 
think that you people on the earth never do what you mean to do. I 
know a gentleman in London, if you will believe it, who has 
been trying for five years to see the sun rise. Every night when 
he goes to bed he says, “Aha! tomorrow morning I shall be 


TOMTY. 


77 


up bright and early, sir! Want to see the sun rise. Haven’t seen it 
since I was a boy. Ha! ha! ha! ” and then he goes to bed, 
and knows nothing till nine o’clock the next morning, when the sun¬ 
beams flirt gold-dust into his eyes and wake 
him up. Then he rubs his eyes, and says 
“ Bless me! overslept myself again, hey? well, 
I never was so sleepy before in my life ! the 
sun will have to see me rise this morning, hey ? 
ha! ha! ha!" 

“Yes, that is the way with you all, and that was the way with 
Brighteyes that day. I did but turn away from the mirror for 
five minutes, to chat with a passing meteor, and ask him how his 
grandmother was ; and when I turned back, where was that bright¬ 
eyed mouse but up at the very top of a tree : trying with all her might 
to catch a small cat, the very same cat which the dogs had been 
chasing an hour before. 

“ Dear little Pusscat! cried Brighteyes in her most winning tones. 
“ I wouldn’t hurt you for the world. Do come, and let me take you 
down, and you shall be my own dear little pet, and I will love 
you very much indeed ! ’’ and she stretched out one arm toward the 
kitten, while the other clasped a branch of the tree. 

The kitten looked hard at her, and on the whole seemed to approve 
of her, for it advanced slowly, and finally allowed itself to be captured. 
Yes, that was very nice ; but how about getting down ? 

“ Oh ! that is easily managed ! ” said Brighteyes, thinking aloud as 
usual. “ I’ll hold my kitty so, you see, with one hand, and with the 
other I just swing myself down to that great big huge branch, so — ” 





7S 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP, 


as she started, there was a sound of something tearing, and this was 
very natural, for the skirt of her unlucky frock was caught on a 
small bough and refused to accompany her to the lower branch; 

but it was too late for Brighteyes to 
stop herself. Down she went, alighting 
safely on the big branch, from which she 
could easily swing herself down to the 
ground. But, alas ! more than half of 
her skirt had remained on the upper 
branch. There it hung, and flapped 
about in a most unpleasant way, and 
there stood Brighteyes, gazing ruefully 
at the ruin she had wrought, but still 
clasping the kitten tightly in her arms. 

Now I want to ask you if you think Mrs. Posset could possibly 
have chosen a worse time for looking out of the window ? she did, 
however, think it proper to look out just at that particular moment; 
and as I saw from her face that she meant mischief, and as I have 
the strongest possible objection to seeing children punished, I just 
tipped my glass and saw the people of Nankin ringing the bells on 
the Porcelain Tower, to celebrate the Emperor’s birthday. 



CHAPTER VI. 


A NIGHT JOURNEY. 



“This has been a fine day! ” I said, as I sat down by Brighteyes 
pillow. “ Certainly it cannot be said that you five mice spend your 
time in idleness. The only wonder is that your uncle’s hair has 
not turned gray from anxiety, long before this. I never saw such 
mice. Positively, Pun-Chin is nothing to you.” 

“ And who is Pun-Chin ? ” asked Brighteyes. “ And who 
you, if you please ? ” 


are 



8o 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


“Pun Chin is a Chinese mouse — I mean boy,” I replied. “ And 
I am the Man in the Moon. I live in a silver palace—” and then 
I told her all about myself, as I had told Downy and the twins the 
night before. But Brighteyes was much more excited about it 
all than the little ones had been. Very little children take every¬ 
thing for granted I find, like my friend little Mary West, who, when 



a great green frog jumped right into her lap the other day, as she 
was sitting by the brook, merely said “ Poor frog wanted to sit 
down, was tired ! ” 

“ Oh ! ” cried Brighteyes. “ How delightful ! how perfectly 
delightful! and are you really true, or am I only dreaming you ? 
and what is your name ? and may I call Nibble ? ” 

“ One thing at a time! ” I replied. “ I certainly am true, as 













A NIGHT JOURNEY. 


8 1 


true as moonshine. As for dreaming me, why, that depends on 
what you call dreaming, you know. And as for my name — humph ! 
can you pronounce Bmfkmgth, for example ? that is the name of my 
dog, and it is a good name, too. ” 

“ No! ” said Brighteyes. “ I certainly cannot. It sounds like 
sneezing and barking and whistling all at once.” 

“ Exactly ! ” I replied. “ That is the language of the dog-star. 
But my name is very much harder than that, so there really would 
be no use in my telling it to you. There are twenty-four j’s in it, 
and seventeen g’s, so you may imagine that it is difficult. The 
other children call me Mr. Moonman, and you may as well do so too. 
As for Nibble,” I continued, “ if he sleeps in this little room close 
by, it is an easy matter to call him. Whisk, just ask that boy’s bed 
if it will please step in here, will you ?” The good beam did his errand 
quickly, and in another moment the two beds stood side by side, 
and shook castors in a very friendly manner. Nibble, who was as 
fast asleep as heart could desire, was very much astonished as Bright¬ 
eyes introduced him to me, and told him all the wonderful things 
she had heard. 

“ But how did you get down here?” he asked. “ Did you come 
on a falling star.”? 

“ No! ” I replied. “ I alway ride on my own beams, which are 
much more manageable, and swifter as well. Why, I can go round 
the world in two whisks of a comet’s tail.” 

“ Oh ! oh ! ” cried Nibble. “ Mr. Moonman, don’t, you think you 
could let me ride on one some time ? I can ride very well, indeed 
I can i Uncle Jack lets me ride Castor sometimes, and even Jose 


82 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP, 


never can get me off, unless he lies down and rolls ! oh ! please let 
me ride on a moonbeam ! it would be so jolly! ” 

“ Jolly enough, but not quite safe enough, my young friend! ” 
said I. “ It is very easy to ride on a moonbeam when one knows 
how, but very different when one does not. There are, however, 
other ways of getting about. A nice little cloud is what you want.” 
I looked out of the window, but not a cloud was to be seen in the sky. 

“ Oh dear! ” said the mice. “We should so like to have a ride, 
Mr. Moonman. Couldn’t you take us on your moonbeam? we 
would sit very still, and not say a word! ” 

“And you shall have a ride,” I said; “but not on Whisk. Run 
now to your uncle’s bureau, and bring me from the top drawer two 
of his largest silk handkerchiefs.” Yes, that was soon done. “ Now 
Whisk, said I, “ there must be some little Winds about here with 
nothing special to do. See if you cannot find some who are willing 
to give these mice a ride.” 

Off went Whisk through the window, and back he came in a 
moment with seven merry little Winds, all ready for a frolic. 

They had sung all the birds and all the flowers to sleep, they 
said, and had been sitting under a tree, whistling for something to 
do, and now nothing would give them greater pleasure than to blow 
the two little heavy ones (for I am sorry to tell you, children, that 
you are all known by that name among the lively spirits of the air,) 
wherever they liked to go. 

“ That is well then,” said I. “ And where will you go, you two 
mice ? ” 


“To China ! ” said Nibble. 


Ti MIGHT JOURNEY* 


S3 

*‘Oh! yes, to China!” cried Brighteyes. “Then we can see Pun- 
Chin, the naughty boy you spoke of, and you can tell us more about 
him as we go along! ” 

“Yes! yes! to China,” said Nibble, again ; and he began to dance 
wildly around the room, as if nothing would stop him. At last the 
two mice were ready for their long journey through the air. 



“ China it is then ! ” I said. “ Spread the handkerchiefs out on 
the window-sill. That’s right ! Now sit down on them—so! now, 
little Winds, blow steadily and off we go! ” 

Ah! that was a ride worth taking, you may believe. Away 
through the soft May night, over the tree-tops, over the hill-tops, 
the two mice, half frightened, half delighted, sitting cross-legged on 
their handkerchiefs, like two little Turks, and the merry little Winds 
puffing away with might and main, while Whisk and I led the way, 
and lighted it too. Yes, it was a pretty sight, had there been any one 
there to see it. But if you had been there yourself, you would 
only have said “ See those two great white owls! how fast they fly.” 


8 4 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE TRAP. 


Now we came to the sea. Hundreds of my beams were there 
sparkling over the shining water, and playing with the little waves, 
which put up the‘r faces, each in its white nightcap, and laughed 
and danced merrily. They called to the seven Winds and said : 

“ Come down and play with us ! ” 

But the Winds said “ No ! no! we have work to do now. We 
can be very steady fellows when we choose, though you might not 
think it.” 



And they puffed away bravely, to the great relief of Nibble and 
Brighteyes, who had been wondering what would become of them 
if the merry Winds should take a fancy to play with the waves. 

Now they began to sing, the seven Winds, and the waves an¬ 
swered them as they leaped and danced. And this is the song 
they sang: 

“ Ever singing, ever sighing, 

Ever floating, ever flying 
Over land and sea. 




A NIGHT JOURNEY. 


*5 


Bringing summer’s glow and gladness, 

Bringing winter’s snow and sadness. 

Merry winds are we 1 

“ Greeting all with soft caresses, 

Shaking out the maiden’s tresses 
Till she laughs with glee. 

Whispering to the bonny flowers, 

Fanning them through sultry hours. 

Merry winds are we ! ” 

Then the waves tossed up their nightcaps and sang: 

“ Ever coming, ever going, 

Ever ebbing, ever flowing, 

Children of the sea. 

Creeping o’er the silver beaches, 

Foaming o’er the rocky reaches, 

Merry waves are we ! 

“ Blue and golden in the sunlight, 

Gray and silver in the moonlight, 

Beautiful to see. 

Giving back each star its brightness, 

Giving back each cloud its whiteness, 

Merry waves are we ! ” 

“ That is charming! ” said Brighteyes. “ Dear little Winds, 
how sweetly you sing ! and how strange that we have never heard you 
before.” 

“Look! ” cried Nibble. “ What is that, that shines so over yonder? 
Is it a sail ? ” 

Yes, it was a sail, and as we came nearer we saw a stately 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


06 

ship, sailing slowly along. All her crew seemed to be asleep, 
except one man, who was pacing up and down the deck. 

He looked up as we passed, and cried “ Hi! albatrosses ! how 



queerly they are flying! wake up, shipmate, and look at those 
birds! ” 

But before any of the sailors were awake, we were flying far away, 
while the Winds and the Waves sang together: 


















A NIGHT JOURNEY. 


8 7 


“ Wake the ship ! 

And shake the ship ! 

And over the sea we will take the ship ! 

Filled with oranges, candy, and toys, 

Some for the girls and some for the boys.” 

“Oh! is it really?” asked Nibble. “I wish I had some! this 
flying makes one hungry.” 

But here now was the land 
again. We bade farewell to the 
merry Waves, and flew along 
over the sleeping country. The 
lights of a great city lay before 
us. 

“ Let us fly lower,” said Bright- 
eyes, “ and then we can peep 
into some of the windows and 
see the people asleep.” 

“ That is not very safe ! ” I re¬ 
plied. “ In these great cities 
there are plenty of people awake 
all night; and it would never 
do for us to be shot at, you know. 

Just then a puff of smoke from a tall chimney came up, and 
got into the children’s eyes and noses, so that they were glad 
to fly higher, where the air was pure, and fresh. 

We passed over vast and gloomy forests, where the solemn 
pines bowed slightly as the seven Winds swept by; and over green 
meadows, where flocks of sheep lay huddled together, fast asleep. 









88 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


As we went further and further eastward, the darkness began to fade. 

“ In China it will be broad daylight,” I said, “ and Whisk and 
I shall fade almost out of sight; but we shall still be with you, so you 
need feel no alarm.” 

“ Are we near China now ? ” asked Brighteyes. “ And you have 
not told us about Pun-Chin, Mr. Moonman ! ” 

“To be sure ! ” I answered. “ What an excellent memory this 
mouse has! well, we may very likely see Pun-Chin, and then you 
shall judge for yourself. The last time I saw him, he had just 
painted his little brother bright green from head to foot, and was tell¬ 
ing him that his father would chop him up into little bits and sow him 
for grass-seed. The poor little boy was very much frightened, as 
you may imagine. Yes, he is a bad fellow for mischief, that boy. 

“ But now we must fly lower,” I added, “ for we are over 
China now. Use your eyes well, my little mice, and see all that you 
can see, for there is no knowing when you will be here again.” 

The mice did use their eyes well; and indeed there were 
many strange things to look at. Green rice-fields, with bright streams 
of water flowing through them, made the country beautiful. Pagodas 
and temples, gaily painted, and gilded, glittered in the sun, and the 
queer, narrow streets were filled with people dressed in strange 
garments of blue, red, and yellow. They all carried large paper 
umbrellas covered with gay figures. 

In one street we saw a boy sitting on a queer sort of gate. Three 
dogs were fastened to this gate by their tails, and as they leaped 
about in their efforts to free themselves, the gate swung to 
and fro, thus saving the boy the trouble of swinging himself. 


A NIGHT JOURNEY. 


89 


Now a man came slowly along the street, reading a paper 
attentively, and thinking of nothing else. Just as he was passing by 
the gate, however, the boy made a sudden spring, and alighting 
on the man’s shoulders, knocked him flat in the muddy street; then 
springing up again like a flash, he resumed his place on the gate, and 
looked as innocent as a lamb. But the man picked himself up 
slowly, and turning round, poured a torrent of angry words on 
the sportive youth. 

“ Child of perdition ! ” he cried, “ may the Red Dragon make his 
next meal of thee, and use thy bones for chopsticks ! my life is of no 
value to me, on account of thy tormentings. 
Am I never to be left in peace ? ” 

The boy, smiling sweetly, was about to re¬ 
ply ; but at that moment a woman, who was 
passing by, happened to look up, and caught 
sight of the two red silk handkerchiefs in 
the air, with Nibble and Brighteyes on them. 
Me they could not see, nor the seven Winds, 
but the children were plainly visible, and very 
funny they must have looked. 

“ Hop-Wang!” cried the woman. “ Look 
up quickly, and see these strange things in 
the sky ! it is some fearful sign from the gods, 
I fear.” 

Hop-Wang looked up, and started ; but in¬ 
stead of being frightened, he showed every 
sign of delight. 




9° 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


“ The Red Dragon ! the Red Dragon ! ” he cried. “ Do you not 
see the fluttering of his wings?” (Indeed, the Winds were blowing 
the corners of the handkerchiefs, which were almost as large as small 
tablecloths, in every direction, to screen the two children, so that they 
really did look rather like flapping wings':) “ I have prayed to 
the Big Idol,” he continued, addressing the woman, “ ever since this 
imp of wickedness here set fire to my beautiful pig-tail and burned it 
off, to send one of his strong dragons to carry off my tormentor. 

And now my prayers are answered, and the 
Red Dragon, strongest of all, is here ! Hok- 
kaloo! hokkaloo! ” and he danced with 
delight. 

But his joy was shortlived. The boy, as 
soon as he heard the words “ Red Dragon,” 
and saw the fluttering wings, turned three 
somersaults in succession, and was out of 
sight in the twinkling of a satellite; and I, 
thinking that distance would lend enchant¬ 
ment to the view, and to be out of danger, begged the Winds to 
olow the handkerchiefs up a mile or so. Accordingly the bright 
vision receded gradually from the sight of the disappointed China¬ 
man, and finally vanished, leaving him very disconsolate, and once 
more at the mercy of his tormentor. 

“ Mr Moonman ! ” said Brighteyes, as we rose slowly through the 
clear air. 

“Well, Mouse Brighteyes ! ” I said, “ what is it ?” 

“ Was that Pun-Chin ? ” 



A NIGHT JOURNEY. 


91 


“That was Pun-Chin ! ” I replied. 

“ I thought so! ” said Brighteyes. And she was silent for 
some time, thinking, perhaps, of the tail-feathers of the sixty-five 
parrots. 

“ How delightful it will be,” said Nibble ; “ to tell Uncle Jack and 
the twinnies about this wonderful ride. ‘‘Just think how surprised 
they will be ! ” “ There is a slight difficulty about that,” I replied, 

“which is that you will not remember in the morning a single thing 
that has happened tonight.” “ Oh ! Oh ! ” cried both the children, 
“ how can that be possible, Mr. Moonman ? we could not forget all 
these wonderful things, even if we tried, and we do not want to try.” 
“That is all very well,” I replied, “but it will make no difference 
whether you try or not, for all will be as I say. If you had carried 
a sprig of the sea-flower in your hands it might have been otherwise; 
but I take care never to give that to children, remembering what 
trouble my cousin Patty once had from doing that very thing.” 

“Who is your cousin Patty? ” asked Nibble. “ Pray tell us about 
her.” The little Winds nodded their heads. 

“We know all about her!” they said. “ She is the Sea Fairy, 
and lives in the palace which is hollowed out of a single pearl, under 
the Indian Ocean. There are fine things there, Father Moonman ! ” 

“You are right!” I said, “and some night these two mice 
shall pay her a visit, and see for themselves. But as I was 
saying, she got into trouble once, by giving a sprig of the sea-flower 
to a little boy of whom she was very fond. I took him down to see 
her one night, and she gave him many beautiful things, among them 
a pair of diamond trousers.” 


92 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP, 



“Diamond trousers!” exclaimed Nibble. “Who ever heard 
of such things! ” 

“ There are many things which you 
have not heard of,” I replied, “ and 
one seems to be that you are not to 
interrupt when other people are 
speaking.” 

Nibble hung his head and was 
silent. 

“ She gave him,” I 
continued, “a pair of 
diamond trousers, which 
shone as brightly as 
Whisk does when he 
shakes himself. The 
boy, a little English fel¬ 
low named Arthur, was 
of course, very much 
delighted, and putting 
the trousers on, he ca¬ 
pered all about the 
palace, kicking his little 
legs up and down, to 










A NIGHT JOURNEY. 


93 


make the diamonds sparkle more and more. • Now there is a rule 
among all the Light Ones (as we are called to distinguish us from 
human beings,) that no heavy one shall ever be allowed to take 
anything away with him when he comes to see us. It is a very 
necessary rule, for there would be all kinds of trouble without it. 
So on this occasion, if Patty had not given little Arthur the sea- 
flower, all would have been well. He would have enjoyed his dia- 
xnond trousers while he was under the sea, and when he woke up in 
the morning he would not have known anything about them. But 
the poor little boy, having the sea-flower in his hand, woke up with 
his head full of the past night, and fully expecting to find the 
diamond trousers hanging over the back of a chair close by his bed. 
When he looked, therefore, and saw nothing but his little brown 
knickerbockers, with a patch on each knee, it was a bitter disap¬ 
pointment. His first thought was that his beautiful present was 
stolen, and he began to scream and cry : ‘ Where are my diamond 
trousers ? somebody has stolen them ! stop thief! they are mine, and 
Patty gave them to me!’ 

“ Well, his mother hearing those cries, came in, and on hearing the 
child’s story she thought he had gone mad, and was very anxious 
about him. Still he cried and screamed for his diamond trousers; 
but suddenly, as he raised his hand to push away the chair on which 
the despised brown knickerbockers lay, he dropped the sea-flower! 
Instantly everything about Patty and the diamond trousers passed 
out of his mind like a flash of lightning, and looking up at his 
mother, he said : ‘ What was I crying about, Mamma ? Isn’t it time 
to get up?’ And his mother said: ‘Yes, my darling, it is high 


94 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE TRAP. 



time to get up, and I think you have had the nightmare, Arthur 

dear.’ 

“ So you see,” 
I continued, 
“ that it is not at 
all a wise thing 
to give the sea- 
flower to little 
people like you. 
But, bless me ! 
here we are at 
the Mouse-trap 
again. Now, my 
mice, creep into 
your nests! say 
good-by to the 
little Winds, and 
thank them for 
blowing you so 
far, for they must 
be tired.” 

“ Oh! thank 


you ! thank you ! dear little Winds ! ” cried the two mice. “ We 
have had such a glorious ride, and we are so much obliged! 
and thank you too, dear Mr. Moonman ! will you come every night, 
please, and tell us more wonderful things ? ” 

“ We will see about that! ” I replied. “ Every night is very often, 
















































A NIGHT JOURNEY. 


95 


and thei^ are many other children who look for me. But I will 
come soon again, I promise you. Now good night, and a pleasant 
waking to you !” and as Whisk and I flew upward, we heard the 
seven little Winds singing softly, as they swung to and fro in the 
grape-vine outside the nursery window: 

The birds may sleep, but the winds must wake 
Early and late, for the birdies’ sake ; 

Kissing them, fanning them, soft and sweet, 

E’en till the dark and the dawning meet. 

The flowers may sleep, but the winds must wake 
Early and late, for the flowers’ sake; 

Rocking the buds on the rose-mother’s breast. 

Swinging the hyacinth-bells to rest. 

The children may sleep, but the winds must wake 
Early and late, for the children’s sake ; 

Singing so sweet in each little one’s ear, 

He thinks his mother’s own song to hear. 









The rain came down from the sky, 
And we asked it the reason why 
It would ne’er stay away 
On washing-day, 

To let our poor clothes get dry. 


The rain came down to the ground, 

With a clattering, pelting sound. 

“ Indeed, if I stayed 
Till you called me,” it said, 

“ I should not come all the year round ! ” 




CHAPTER VII. 


A RAINY DAY AND WHAT CAME OF IT. 

“ Well, I suppose that is true!” said Brighteyes, who had been 
singing this little song as she stood by the dining-room window after 
breakfast, watching the rain. “ I suppose it must rain some time. 
But I do wish it would always rain at night, Uncle Jacket. Just 
think how nice it would be !” 

“ Very nice for you,” replied Uncle Jack. “ But how about the 
owls and bats, and watchmen and cats, who have to be out all night ? 
they might not fancy it quite so much. They might not like it,” he 
continued, “ any more than I like to have a great boy and girl stand 
and look out of the window, when my fire is hungry. Look at the 
poor thing, almost starved for want of food !” 

“ Hi! Brighteyes,” cried Nibble. “Which will get to the wood- 
box first ?” That was certainly a question, and it was also a question 
whose neck would be broken first, to judge from the way in which 
they rushed out of the room. But they came back safely, strange to 
say, Nibble in advance, with a huge stick of yellow birch nearly as 
large as himself, while Brighteyes followed closely with another. 

“ Ah I” said Uncle Jack, rubbing his hands. “ Now we shall see a 
fire, for it is cold this morning, if it is the end of May. There,” he 




9 8 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


continued, placing the logs carefully, and heaping the coals over 
them. “ So my fire-spirit has his breakfast, as well as the rest of us. 
He is an excellent fellow, and should be well treated. Did you ever 
hear of the old woman who poked her fire-spirit till he ran away and 
left her?” 

“ No! ” cried the two mice. “ Please tell us about her, Uncle.” 

“ She was a very cross old woman,” said Uncle Jack. “ She lived 
all alone, for she was so cross that nobody could live with her. She 
scolded her children till they went away, and she scolded her bird till 
it flew away, and she scolded her cat till it ran away. So there she 
lived all alone, with only the fire-spirit to keep her company. Now 
her fire-spirit was very good natured, and had borne very patiently 
with his mistress’ ill-temper. One day, however, she came in looking 
and feeling particularly savage. She sat down before the fire and 

took up the poker. 
“ Ugh !” she said. 
“ What a misera¬ 
ble attempt at a 
fire! why don’t 
you burn, you stu¬ 
pid, sulky thing ?” 
and she gave it a 
vicious poke. 

“ How can I 
burn,” said the 
fire, “when you 
don’t give me anything to burn with ** nobody can make a good 















A RAINY DAY AND WHAT CAME OF IT. 


99 


blaze with only two sticks, and these two are as cross as you are, 
which is saying a great deal.” 

“ You shall burn !” cried the old hag, “whether you want to or 
not!” and she began to poke and poke most unmercifully. 

“ Take care !” said the fire-spirit. “ I can’t stand much more of 
this. I am growing black in the face.” 

“ I'll teach you to answer me !” cried the woman, poking away 
harder than ever. But suddenly she gave a shriek, and dropped the 
poker. A puff of smoke came out of the fire-place. A shower of 
cinders and sparks fell all over her, filling her eyes and nose and 
mouth ; a rushing sound, like a gust of wind, followed, and the 
house-door was shut with a violent bang. Then all was silent. And 
when the old hag had wiped the cinders out of her eyes, she saw 
only a black cold hearth, with two cross sticks lying on it, and scowl¬ 
ing at each other. The fire-spirit was gone ; and what was more, he 
never came back, and the old woman had nothing to keep her warm, 
except her own temper. 

“ And now, chickens,” said Uncle Jack, “ run away and study your 
lessons, for this is our working-time, you know, and holidays are 
over.” 

“ Oh dear ! ” said Brighteyes, “ I wish we might have one more 
story, Uncle Jack ! ” 

“ No ! no ! ” said Uncle Jack. “ There will be plenty of time for 
stories to-day, for you will not be able to go out of doors. Trot, 
now, for I have work to do as well as you.” 

Nibble and Brighteyes left the room slowly, and made their way to 
the school-room. 


IOO 


FIVE MICE IN A MO USE-TRAP. 


“ I say, Brighteyes! ” said Nibble, “ suppose we play we are 
somebody else, and then perhaps we shall like studying better.” 

“ What do you mean, Nibble? ” asked Brighteyes. 

“ Why,” said Nibble, “ I have a geography lesson to study, and 
you know I detest geography. But if I were to play I was Christo¬ 
pher Columbus, I should have to play I liked it, because he must 
have liked geography very much indeed, you know. So then it 
might be easier, don’t you think so ? ” 

“ Ye-es,” said Brighteyes, doubtfully. “ It would be easier for 
geography, certainly. But I have my arithmetic to study, and nobody 
could ever have liked arithmetic, Nibble.” 

“ You might be Mr. Colburn,” suggested Nibble. “ I suppose he 
must have liked it, or he would not have written so much about it.” 

“ Well, I will try,” said Brighteyes ; 
“ though I don’t think Mr. Colburn 
is half as nice as Christopher Colum¬ 
bus. But if he had been very nice, 
he would not have written arithmetic 
books, so it can’t be helped, I sup¬ 
pose.” 

By this time they had reached the 
school-room, and Nibble, sitting 
down by the big table and opening 
his atlas, began, in a loud voice : “ O King of Spain, let me inform 
your Majesty that Alabama is bounded on the north by Tennessee, 
on the east by Georgia, on the ”— 

“ But, Nibble ! I Mean Christopher!” interrupted Mr. Colburn, in 




A RAINY DAY AND WHAT CAME OF IT. 


IOI 


d piteous tone. “ How can I do anything if you study out loud ?” 

“ Oh dear ! ” said the great discoverer, rather impatiently. “ Well, 
go ahead, Mr. Colburn, and write your book, while I go on a new 
voyage of discovery. Let us see which will finish first.” 

And now, seeing that the mice were settling down to their books 
in good earnest, I turned my attention to the nursery, where I rightly 
judged that I should find the three younger mice. 

Well, to be sure, what fine sport they were having, those three 



little things ! they had evidently been washing the dolls’ clothes, for 
small clothes-lines of string were all about the room, and Downy’s 
pinafore looked as if it had been in the tub: but now the wash was 
all hung out, and the mice were “ playing wind,” as they called it: 












































102 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


that is to say, they were running to and fro, puffing out their little fat 
cheeks, and blowing at the clothes with might and main, in the hope 
of making them dry sooner. 

“ I am the North Wind ! ” said Puff. “ Whoop ! whoop ! ” 

“ I am the South Wind ! ” cried Fluff. 

“And I’m fome kind of wind, ivn’t I ?” asked Downy, who was 
blowing as hard as any of them. 

“Yes, dear, you are the West Wind ; whoop ! whoop ! whoop ! ” 
said Puff, as she pranced about. 

Now presently the door opened, and Mrs. Posset came in, with her 
basket of stockings to mend. One of the clothes-lines was directly 
in her way, and the good woman stumbled over it, and knocked her 
head against the mantel-piece and dropped all the stockings. This 
she did not like, as you may imagine. “ Dear me ! children/’ she 
cried, “ it’s as much as my life is worth to enter this nursery, with all 
your crinkum-crankums ! my stars ! will you look at the strings now, 
all over the room, fit to break a body’s neck! Whatever are you 
doing now, Miss Puff? ” 

“We washed the dolls’ clothes, Possy dear,” said Puff, “because 
they were dirty, and you said this morning dirt was a sin.” 

“ So we couldn’t have our children dirty and sinful too, you know, 
Possy!” cried Fluff, earnestly. “And now we are playing wind, 
and drying the clothes beautifully.” 

“ Well, dears,” said Mrs. Posset, resignedly, as she sat down with 
her mending, “ ’tis a very nice play, no doubt ; but if you could play 
something that would not shake the room quite so much, the stock¬ 
ings would be mended sooner, that’s all.” 


A RAINY DAY AND WHAT CAME OF IT. 103 

•• Well, Puffy,” said Fluff, “ what shall we play? ” 

“ Oh ! let us play ‘ Five Little Princesses ’ ! ” said Puff. 

11 But there are only three of us ! ” Fluff objected. “ Unless Mrs. 
Posset will be one, and that would only be four. Would ycu mind 
being a princess, Possy ? ” 

“ Oh ! Miss Fluffy, dear, indeed I have not time, now,” said the 
good nurse ; “ but you might play that one of the princesses was 
lame, and could not walk.” 

So the three mice began to walk slowly about, with their eyes shut, 

singing, as they went: 

Five little princesses started off 
to school, 

Following their noses because it 
was the rule. 

But one nose turned up, and 
another nose turned down, 
So all the little princesses were 
lost in the town. 

Here they all tumbled 
against each other, and 
pretended to cry bitterly; 
then starting off again, 

they sang: 

Poor little princesses cannot find their way ! 

Naughty little noses, to lead them astray ! 

Poor little princesses, sadly they roam, 

Naughty little noses, pray lead them home ! 

Now is not that a pretty game ? Yes, and it is quite new, so you 
may try it yourselves if you like. Just shut your eyes, and bump 



















104 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP,\ 


against all the chairs and tables, singing this song, and you will find 
yourselves very much amused. At least, the twins and Downy en¬ 
joyed it extremely, until Fluff, the unlucky, tripped over one of her 
own clothes-lines, and fell against the stove (which, luckily, had no 
fire in it,) hitting her head harder than even a lost princess could 
possibly care to do. For a few minutes there was sorrow and con¬ 
fusion among the princesses ; but the offer of a story from Mrs. 
Posset soon calmed their royal minds, and they gathered round the 
good nurse’s table with eager faces. 

“Well, and what shall the story be about, Missies ? ” she asked. 

“ Oh ! about the three little girls ! ” said Puff. Fluff nodded her 
head approvingly, and Downy said “ Free ittle dirls ! ” in a satisfied 
tone. So they listened, and I listened, and my dog listened. And 
you may listen, too, if you like, though it is an old story, and you 
may have heard it before. 

“ Once upon a time, then,” said Mrs. Posset, threading her darn¬ 
ing-needle, and taking up one of Nibble’s stockings, which was in 
such a condition as might have made a darning-machine turn pale, 
“ there were three little girls, and their names were Orange and 
Lemon and Hold-your-tongue. And they all lived together in a little 
fed house with a green roof, which stood in the middle of a wood. 
Now every morning there was the work to be done, you see. So on 
Monday morning Orange would get up at the break of day, so to 
speak, and she swept the house, and she made the fire, and she 
cooked the breakfast—” 

“ What did they have for breakfast ? ” asked Fluff. 

“ Pork chops,” said Mrs. Posset. “ And then she called her sisters : 


A RAINY DAY AND WHAT CAME OF IT. 


io 5 

and when they had eaten their breakfast, they all went out and 
played for the rest of the day. 

Well, and on Tuesday morning Lemon got up early And she 
swept the house, and she made the fire, and she cooked the break¬ 
fast—” 

“ What did they have that morning ? ” interrupted Puff. 

“Cod’s head and shoulder!” replied Mrs. Posset. “And then 
she called her sisters ; and when they had eaten their breakfast, they 
all went out and played for the rest of the day. 

Well, my dears, as Pm telling you, on Wednesday, the third little 
girl—dear ! dear ! what was her name now ? I seem to forget—” 

“ Hold-your-tongue ! ” cried Fluff, eagerly. 

“ Well ! well ! ” said Mrs. Posset, pretending to be very much 
vexed. “ To think of your having no better manners than that, Miss 
Fluff! telling me to hold my tongue, indeed! not another story will 
you get from me to-day, I promise you ! ” 

This was a favorite joke of Mrs. Posset’s, I found, and the children 
were never tired of it, though they knew that the little story went no 
further than “ Hold your tongue! ” They were still laughing over 
it, when they heard a loud scream from below, followed by a heavy 
fall, and a crash as of broken china. For a moment they all looked 
at each other in silence, startled by the shock; then Mrs. Posset, put 
Downy off her knee, and flew down stairs, followed by the three 
little mice, all eager to know what had happened. Uncle Jack had 
heard the noise in his study, and Susan had heard it in the kitchen ; 
in fact, the whole household was roused, and all turned their steps 
towards the school-room, where Nibble and Brighteyes were. Uncle 


io6 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


Jack was the first to open the door, and when he looked into the 
room, he saw—see! I will draw you a picture. This is what he saw 



Nibble was lying on the floor, apparently half-stunned, while near 
him lay the fragments of a china tea-pot; and all around on the 
floor, were scattered gold coins, large and small, hundreds and hun¬ 
dreds of them. Every one stood astonished, very naturally, and no 
one was more astonished than Master Nibble himself. As soon as 
he recovered his composure a little, he sat up on Uncle Jack’s knee, 
and told his story, very much in these words: 

“It was all my geography lesson, Uncle ! ” said Nibble. “ I 
played I was Christopher Columbus, so that I should like it better, 
and I learned it all, every word of it. But I finished before Mr. 
Colburn had written his books, so I—” 

“ Stop! stop ! Nibble ! ” cried Uncle Jack. “ Who is Mr. Colburn, 
pray ? and what has he to do with your geography lesson ? ” 














A RAINY DAY AND WHAT CAME OF IT. 


107 


“Why, he is Brighteyes ! ” said Nibble. “To make her like her 
arithmetic lesson, don’t you know ? ” 

“ Oh ! indeed ! ” said Uncle Jack. “ Go on, Christopher! ” 

“ So,” continued Nibble, “ I thought I would go on a voyage of 
discovery, a real voyage. And I saw that little trap door in the 
ceiling, that you said must be an old sky-light covered over—” 

“ And that I forbade you to meddle with,” said Uncle Jack, quietly. 
“Well, yes, Uncle, I know you did. But if Columbus had minded 
what other people said, would he ever have found America ? ” 

“ Humph ! ” said Uncle Jack, trying to suppress a smile. “ Well, 
sir ?” 

“ Well, sir,” responded Nibble, “ so I thought I would sail for that 
port. I climbed up on some things” (I should say he did ! there was 
a heap of tables and chairs, desks and books, sofa-pillows and coal¬ 
scuttles, under the open trap-door, which was enough to frighten 
one,) “ and got into it. It was a kind of an attic place, Uncle, all 
beams and rafters and cobwebs. I crept in ever so far on my hands 
and knees, and in the farthest corner I found a heap of queer old 
clothes all covered with dust ; coats and hats, and all sorts of things. 
I knew they must belong to the queer old man Tomty told us about, 
who used to live here, and I thought it would be great fun to bring 
them down and dress up in them. I lifted some of them, and heard 
something rattle underneath : then I looked, and found that old tea¬ 
pot, hidden away under a great beam. It was very heavy, and the 
cover was fastened on with sealing-wax, so I was going to bring it 
down to you ; but my foot slipped, and—” “ And you came down 

rather faster than you meant to ? ” said Uncle Jack. 


io8 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


“ Dear to goodness, sir ! ” cried Mrs. Posset, who had been picmng 
up the gold pieces, and had her apron full of them. “ It’s my 
belief that this is neither more nor less than old Jonas Junk’s 
treasure, of which the neighbors talk so much.” 

“ It certainly is, Mrs. Posset! ” replied Uncle Jack. “ And I think 
we must always call Nibble Christopher Columbus, for he certainly 
has made a great discovery ! ” 












CHAPTER VIII. 


A STORY CHAPTER. 

It was quite late one evening’ when I slipped in at a window in the 
Mouse-trap, to pay a visit to Nibble and Brighteyes. Nibble’s bed, 



a most intelligent piece of furniture, walked in from the other room 
of its own accord, as soon as I appeared, so I had not even the 




















1 IO 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


trouble of calling it. As for the two mice, they fairly squeaked with 
delight when they saw me. “ Oh ! Mr. Moonman! ” they cried, 
“we thought you were never coming again ! where have you been 
all this long, long time ? ” 

“It is only a week since I last came, little mice!” I replied; 
“ and indeed, I should have been here oftener, but two of my pet 
children have been ill, and I have been telling them stories every 
night, to make the time pass more quickly.” 

“ Oh ! tell us about them, and tell us their names, and tell us the 
stories you told them ! ” cried Brighteyes eagerly. 

“ And take us on another journey, oh! please /” added Nibble, 
jumping up and down, with excitement. 

“ How is a poor Moonman to do everything at once ? ” I inquired. 
“ In the first place, there will be no traveling to-night, let me tell 
you. A very disagreeable Wind has the watch to-night, and I 
would not trust you in his hands. Yes, he is a detestable fellow, 
very different from our seven little friends of the other night. He 
actually tried to blow out my lantern, which is a piece of impudence 
I have seldom met with. You shall hear a story about him if you 
will, for only last night I was telling one to Marie and Emil.” 

“ Yes ! yes! ” cried the mice ; “we should like it above all 
things. But first tell us a little about Marie and Emil. Are they 
the two children who have been ill ? ” 

“ Yes,” I replied; “ they are French children, and they live in a 
sea-board town in the south of France,—that is, they live there 
about half the time : the other half they spend on the water, in their 
father’s yacht. Their father is a rich man, who has a passion for the 


A STORY CHAPTER . 


hi 


sea, and likes to spend most of his time on it: and he takes his little 



boy and girl with him on many of his yacht voyages, for they are as 
fond of the water as he is, and they have no mother.” 

“ Oh!” sighed Nibble, “ I wish Uncle Jack had a yacht, and a 
passion for the sea ! ” 

“ That would be admirable ! ” said I. “ Two children on a yacht 
are all very well, but if there were five, the captain and all the crew 
would jump overboard and drown themselves, I fancy. Certainly, 
Marie and Emil are very happy on board the Victoria. Marie has a 
cabin of her own, the prettiest little room you can imagine, where 
she sits and reads, or swings in her hammock, when she is tired of 
staying on deck. The sailors are all devoted to them, and now that 
they are ill on shore, the big captain, Jacques Legros, goes every 
day up to the house, to ask if ‘ the little angels are better ?' ” 






I 12 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


“ What is the matter with them ? ” asked Brighteyes ; “ and shall 



we have the story now, if you please ? ” 

“ You shall have the story now ! ” I said, “ and they have had the 
scarlet fever, but are doing very well. Hear that angry Wind out¬ 
side ! how he howls, and shakes the window-frame. He knows that 
I am going to tell you about his misdeeds. Howl away, my friend ; 
you can do us no harm. So then I told the mice the following 
story. First, however, I showed them a picture of Marie, which I 
happened to have in my pocket. They thought she was a very 
prettv little girl. What do you think ? 

THE STORY OF THE WIND. 

The great Tree stood out in the green meadow, all alone. No 
other trees dared to come near him, he was so strong, and tall, and 


















































MARIE 






































































































































































































































































































































































































































A STORY CHAPTER. 


grand; out for all that, he was kind and gentle, and never would 
hurt anything. One morning the great Tree awoke from his long 
winter sleep, and found the snow all gone, and the sun shining 
bright and warm as if it were June instead of the first of April. On 
his branches were sitting a flock of little birds, and it was their 
chirping and twittering that had waked him. “ Chippity-wippity pip 
pip, cheepy peepy weep wee-e-e! ” they said; and that meant 
“ Wake up, old Tree ! Spring has sent us to call you. She is coming 
directly, and she wants you to get your leaves out as soon as possible, 
as she has forgotten her parasol, and wants some shade for her pretty 
head.” 

The great Tree nodded his head, and said, “ Tell my lady Spring 
that I will be ready.” And then he shook his branches, and called 
out, “ Little leaves, little children, open your buds and come out! 
come out! ” And one by one the little buds with which the branches 
were covered opened, and out popped the little leaves. At first they 
shivered, and wished themselves back in their warm little houses ; 
but the old Tree spoke kindly to them, and then the sunbeams came 
and kissed them, so that they felt quite happy, and even began to 
dance about a little on the branches. And they said to each other, 
‘ How foolish we were, to think of shutting ourselves up again in 
those close houses. Here we shall be free and happy, and we will 
dance all day and all night.” 

Just then they heard a soft voice whispering, “ Little leaves, lovely 
leaves, will you not dance with me ? ” And the little leaves said, 
“Who are you, that whispers so softly ? ” And the voice answered, 
“ I am the Wind, and I have come to be your playfellow. I can 


116 FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 

sing, too, and sweetly, and we shall all be happy together.” So the 
Wind sang them a low, sweet song; and then he danced with them, 
and kissed them gently, and played with them; and they all said, 
“ Oh, dear, gentle Wind, how charming you are ! will you not play 
with us every day, and make us happy ? ” 

But after the Wind had flown away, the old Tree called to them 
and said, “ My children, beware of the Wind, for he is not to be 
trusted. Soft and gentle he is to-day, but to-morrow he may be 
fierce and terrible. Play with him and dance with him, but be always 
on your guard.” And the little leaves nodded their little heads, and 
answered, “Yes, good father, we will be careful.” 

Well, for many days the Wind came to play with the leaves, and 
every day they thought him more delightful. Such wonderful stories 
as he told them! of all the strange countries he had seen in his 
wanderings; the beautiful tropical islands, where he slept all day in 
the palm-tree tops, just waking in the evening to fan the cheeks of 
the dark-eyed southern ladies for an hour, and then sinking to sleep 
again under the shining stars ; and the terrible northern seas, with 
their fleets of ice-bergs, whose pilot he loved to be, guiding them 
hither and thither, tossing the waves about, and sporting with the 
seals and walruses on the flat ice-cakes. “ And some day, little 
leaves,” he said, “ you shall go with me to see these wonders ; not to 
the arctic seas, for you are too tender and delicate to bear the cold ; 
but away to the south, to the coral islands arid the orange-groves. 
There you will see all the beauty of the world, and will laugh at the 
thought of having been content in this dull meadow, with its stupid 
daisies and buttercups, and its paltry little brook. Also you will find 


A STORY CHAPTER. 


117 

many cousins there, leaves such as you never dreamed of, wonderful 
in size and shape and color. Say, then, little playmates, will you 
come with me, and see all these beautiful things, and many more ? ” 

But the leaves shook their little heads, and said, “ No, dear Wind! 
we love you, and it would be delightful to go with you, but we cannot 
leave our father Tree, who is so kind to us, and loves us so dearly.” 

At first the Wind seemed angry, but soon he smiled and said, 
“ Never mind ! some day you will come,—some day !” and away he 
flew. But oh! the next time he came, what a different Wind he 
was ! no longer gentle, playful, caressing, but fierce, and rough, and 
stormy. He rushed at the great Tree, howling furiously. He seized 
the little leaves, and whirled and dashed them about, trying to tear 
them from the branches ; and flung himself against the Tree, as if he 
would even loose his rooted hold on the ground. But the leaves 
clung closer and closer, trembling and shivering ; and the great Tree 
braced himself, and met the fierce blast bravely, never losing an inch 
of his foothold, and giving back blow for blow with his long power¬ 
ful arms. At last the Wind was tired and flew away, howling and 
moaning with anger and disappointment. The little leaves were 
sadly frightened, but their father Tree comforted them, and said, 
“ Courage, my children ! I have fought many a battle with the 
Wind, and he has never beaten me yet. Only be brave and faithful, 
and he cannot overcome you.” 

At first the leaves thought they never wanted to see or hear the 
Wind again ; but a few days after, to their great surprise, he came 
again, soft and gentle, as he had used to be, and he kissed them and 
sang to them, and begged them to forgive his wicked temper, and 


118 FIVE MICK IN A M O USE- TRA F. 

play with him once more. He was so charming that they soon for¬ 
gave him, and soon forgot all about the storm. And they danced 
and frolicked about gayly, and listened again to the marvelous tales 
of far-off countries, of palm-groves and coral islands. 

So the time went on and on. The Lady Spring had gathered 
her green robes about her and passed on, and her children, the wild- 
wood blossoms, had followed her ; and now Lady Summer, who had 
come in her stead, with her arms full of peaches and pears, and her 
gown covered with lovely garden flowers, was almost ready to depart, 
and stayed lingering, calling and beckoning to her brother Autumn, 
who was following very slowly. The leaves on the great Tree had 
been very happy during Lady Summer’s reign. Many a time, it is 
true, the Wind had been angry with them, because they refused to go 
away with him, and again and again he had raged and stormed, and 
tried to tear them away from their happy home. But he was always 
very sorry after these fits of passion, and they always forgave him 
readily, for they loved him dearly. 

One night, one clear, lovely night, when all things were sleeping 
in the moonlight, the Wind came and whispered to the leaves. So 
softly he came, and so softly he spoke, that they did not wake at first, 
and he had to kiss them all before he could rouse them from their 
sleep. “ Hush, darlings ! ” he said. “ You must not wake the old 
Tree, for I have a secret to tell you which he must not hear. Some¬ 
thing very wonderful is going to happen, and I have come to tell you 
about it.” “ What is it, dear Wind ? oh, what is it ? ” whispered the 
little leaves. And they clustered together and listened. “ Well, my 
darlings,” said the Wind, “ a very great personage is going to pass 


A STORY CHAPTER. 


IX 9 

through this part of the country to-morrow night. No less a per¬ 
sonage than the celebrated Frost, the court painter of the great King 
Winter. He is one of the most famous painters in the world, but he 
is also a great friend of mine; and though he is in a hurry to join 
his royal master, who has now left his Arctic kingdom, and is traveling 
southward, he has kindly consented to do a great favor for you, my 
darlings, because I have told him how dearly I love you.” 

“What is it, dear Wind? oh, what is it?” asked the little leaves 
again. 

“ Well,” said the Wind, “ I know you must be very tired of these 
dull green dresses. They were well enough in the spring, when 
they were new and fresh, but now you have been wearing them all 
summer, and they are dirty and soiled. So I have persuaded my 
friend Frost to stop here on his way through the meadow, and to 
paint you all over, with fresh, new, beautiful colors. Only think of 
it, darlings ! think how lovely you will look, all shining in crimson 
and gold ! Now, am I not a good friend ? and will you not all give 
me kisses for this ?” 

“ Oh yes ! yes indeed, you good Wind! ” cried the leaves. “We 
will give you as many kisses as you want, and we will thank you till 
you are tired of being thanked. Oh ! how delightful it will be ! ” 
and they danced about and about, and they kissed the Wind, and he 
kissed them. 

“ And now, good-night! ” he said. “ Remember, not a word of 
this to the old Tree, for it would be a pity to rob him of the pleasure 
of such a charming surprise.” 

He flew away, but the leaves were too happy to go to sleep again. 


120 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


They whispered and chattered all night about their new dresses. 
This one would have yellow, and that one would have pink, and that 
one scarlet, while some of the older ones preferred a rich golden 
russet. And when morning came, they were still whispering and 
chattering, and could think of nothing else all day. 

At last the wished-for night came ; and a beautiful night it was, 
very cool, but perfectly still, and brilliant with moonlight and star¬ 
light. The little leaves waited and waited, till they were, oh! so 
sleepy! but no one came. At length, when their eyes were closing 
in spite of themselves, they felt a sudden cold strike them, a cold so 
intense that it almost took away their breath. They looked up, and 
saw advancing over the meadow towards them, a strange figure 
which they knew in a moment must be that of the great Frost. He 
was very tall and thin, and very pale ; and his long robe, and his 
hair, and his long curling moustaches, looked exactly like silver. 
Indeed, there was a silvery glitter all about and around him, and as 
he passed lightly over the grass, it too seemed to them to silver under 
his feet. He came straight on, came to the tree. Then, without 
speaking a word, he drew out a long silver brush which had been 
hidden beneath his robe, and a palette covered with brilliant colors, 
and began to paint the leaves. But oh ! what a deadly chill struck 
through them when the silver brush touched them. Cold, cold, cold ! 
and a kind of numbness, and a heavy drowsiness, began to creep over 
them. But when they saw the gorgeous beauty of their new dresses, 
they were very proud, and tried to hold themselves up, and not to 
give way to this strange weakness and faintness. And at last, oh ! 
at last, the final touch was given, and with one cold farewell glance 


A STORY CHAPTER. 


121 


from his bright, sharp eyes, the court painter of the great King 
Winter passed on over the meadow. 

Soon morning broke, and the leaves, waking from their brief and 
uneasy slumber, looked around to see the splendor in which they 
were arrayed. How the sun stared at them, when he rose. He sent 
down a special sunbeam to give them his compliments and to say 
that he had never seen them look so charming. Oh ! very proud 
were the little leaves, and very happy, they thought; but somehow 
they did not feel at all well. The day was bright and warm, and yet 
they were so cold, so cold ! and the numbness and weakness still 
seemed creeping over them, and would not now be shaken off. And 
now the great Tree awoke, (for he was apt to sleep late, being very 
old.) But instead of being pleased, as his children thought he 
would be, when he saw their fine appearance, he sighed and wept. 

“ Ah, my children ! ” he said ; “ my poor unhappy children ! I see 
what has happened. You have listened to the Wind, and the Frost 
has been with you ; and now you will leave me, and I shall be alone 
again, as I have been so many, many years.” 

“ Oh, no ! no! Father Tree,” cried the leaves, “we will stay 
with you always.” 

But the old Tree shook his head, and said, “ No, my children ! it 
is too late. You cannot choose now whether you will go or stay, and 
soon, soon I shall be left alone.” 

The little leaves did not understand this, and they tried to forget 
the sad words, and to be happy with their fine new dresses. But 
still they were so cold, so cold ! and still the drowsy numbness kept 
creeping, creeping over them, and each day they became weaker and 


122 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


weaker. And one day, oh ! one fearful day, the Wind came. 
Fiercely and furiously he flew across the meadow, savagely he 
rushed at the great Tree. “ Now,” he howled, “ now, little leaves, 
will you come with me ? ha ! ha ! now will you come ? ” he clutched 
the leaves, and they shivered and moaned, and clung to the branches. 
But alas ! their strength was gone, they could no longer resist the 
blast: and in a moment they were whirled away and away, borne 
hither and thither on the wings of the mighty Wind, and at last 
dashed down on the earth, to shiver and die in the cold. 

And once more the great Tree stood alone in the meadow. 



CHAPTER IX. 


A PICNIC. 

One bright morning, at about eleven o’clock, I tipped my glass in 
the direction of the Mouse-trap. It had been tipped in a very dif¬ 



ferent direction, for I had been watching a buffalo-hunt on the 
prairies. That is an exciting sport, and one that I should like to 
join in, if I were a few thousand years younger. Here at the Mouse- 


























124 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


trap, however, there was an excitement of quite another sort. All 
the five mice were hurrying about, evidently very busy. The car¬ 
riage stood at the door, and Uncle Jack was packing all sorts of 
things into it. Nibble brought one big basket, and Puff brought 
another, and both were stowed away under the seat. Brighteyes 
came down the steps very carefully carrying something in a pitcher, 
with a napkin tied over the top, and that too was stowed away. As 
for Fluff and Downy, they were running round and round the house 

as fast as they could, 
shouting : “ Picnic ! pic¬ 
nic ! going to a picnic ! 
oh ! Jollykaloo ! Jolly ka- 
loo!” 

“ Aha!” I said to my 
dog, “ the mice are 
going to have a picnic. 
Let us watch now, and 
see where they go : and 
then we shall have all the 
fun of it, and none of the 
all get into the carriage 
except Nibble, who stood on the steps with his hands in his pockets, 
evidently waiting for something. The something soon proved to be 
Jose, the brown donkey, whom Thomas now led up the path, looking 
very gay with his Mexican saddle and scarlet tassels. Nibble mounted 
him nimbly, and took the reins and the whip. “ Thank you, Tomty ! ” 
he said. “And good-bye! I wish you were going to the picnic, 


















A PICNIC . 


125 


Tomty ! ” “Thank you kindly, sir ! ” replied Tomty. “The hens 
and me will be having a picnic in the barn-yard, Master Nibble, I’m 
thinking.” 

“ Now, Uncle Jack, I am ready ! ” cried the young horseman. “ I 
will lead the way, and you can follow ! ” 

“Thank you ! ” said Uncle Jack, who was holding in the spirited 
horses with some difficulty, “you are extremely kind, I am sure !” 

“Get up, Jose!” cried Nibble, “Hi! go on, sir! ” But Jose 
was not inclined to go on. He shook his head, and pointed his long 
ears backward and forward, but not a step would he stir, for entreat¬ 
ies, threats, or blows. Then Tomty slyly took a sharp-pointed stake, 
and poked Master Jose from behind. Ah, that was another matter! 
up went his heels in the air, and off he went at full gallop, while all 
the occupants of the carriage shouted with laughter, as they saw 
donkey and rider dash along the avenue, and finally vanish in a cloud 
of dust. 

“ Come, Pollux! come, Castor! ” said Uncle Jack, “ it would 
never do for the donkey to get to the Glen before us.” 

Castor and Pollux thought so too, for they tossed their heads, and 
quickened their pace to a fast trot, though they were far too well 
behaved to think of breaking into a gallop. 

“ Oh ! isn’t it nice to go so fastly ? ” exclaimed Fluffy, giving 
Downy a hug. “ Just like queens in their chariots. See those two 
little tiny children, Downy! They are smaller as you, and perhaps 
they think we are queens, only we haven’t any crowns ; but we might 
have left our crowns at home for fear of robbers.” 

“ Yef, wobbers ! ” said Downy, with a knowing nod. 


126 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


“ No I don’t think we will be queens,” said Brighteyes. “ Let us 

be wild beasts in a cara¬ 
van, going to the menag¬ 
erie, and then we can 
sing the menagerie song.” 
“ Oh ! yes ! yes ! ” cried 
all the others. And then 
they sang the following 
song, each singing a 
verse in turn, and then 
imitating the voice of the 
creature she represented 
while the other verses 
were sung. It was a lively game, you may believe. 



The Tiger is a terrible beast! 

He lives in jungles of the East, 

On bad little boys he loves to feast: 

Oh ! fiddledy, diddledy, dido ! 

The Lion he doth rage and roar; 

And when he hits you with his paw, 

You never are troubled with nothing no more, 
Oh ! fiddledy, diddledy, dido ! 


The Buffalo doth proudly prance, 

Whenever the hunters will give him a chance, 
And over the prairies he leads them a dance, 
Oh ! fiddledy, diddledy, dido ! 


The Crocodile doth open his jaws, 
Like great big ugly tusky doors, 

And gobbles you up without a pause. 
Oh ! fiddledy, diddledy, dido ! 






















« 


>1 


THEY STOOD LOOKING AT THE MICE, 





















































































































A PICNIC . 


129 


By the time the last verse was finished the four mice were howling’ 
and roaring in a manner frightful to hear, and Uncle Jack’s patience 
finally gave way. “ Children,” he said, turning round, “ I cannot 
possibly endure this. Be quiet at once, or I will drive you to the 
Lunatic Asylum and leave you there ! See, the people are all 
coming out of their houses to stare at you ! ” So indeed they were, 
and one little girl, who stood with her mother at a cottage gate, 
staring with might and main, cried: “Them’s all mad, be’nt them, 
mother?” “ No, little girl!” said Puff, with great dignity. “We 
are wild beasts going to a menagerie ! ” And the carriage whirled 
away leaving the child not much 
the wiser. 

Now they turned into a lovely 
wood road, when the trees bent 
down over the carriage, and whis¬ 
pered in the mices’ ears. But 
the mice did not understand, as 
usual ; they only rubbed their 
ears and said the leaves tickled 
them. Uncle Jack stopped the 
horses, and told the mice to tum¬ 
ble out, which they did speedily. 

One took a basket, and another 
a bottle, and all went trotting 
down the mossy path that led 
to the lovely glen, while Uncle 
Jack stayed to unharness the horses, and then followed with the 




13 ° 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


“ biggy-wiggy basket,” as Downy called it. Indeed, it was a pretty 
sight to see those little creatures, playing about like so many fairies 
in that lovely green place. You should have seen the little flower- 
spirits start up to look at them, as they frisked about among the 
trees. Little Primrose threw kisses to them, and Violet offered them 
a dew-drop in her deepest purple cup ; but the merry mice thought 
nothing of the flower spirits and neither saw nor heard them. 

“Oh! the brook! the lovely brook!” cried Brighteyes. “We 
must take off our shoes and stockings and wade in it. Mayn’t we, 

Uncle Jack ? ” Uncle Jack 
nodded, and off went four 
pairs of shoes, and four pairs 
of scarlet stockings. Oh ? 
the little white feet! how 
pretty they looked, shining 
through the clear water, that 
looked so brown in the still 
pools, and sparkled so white 
over the rocks and the tiny 
rapids. 

That was fine sport, certain¬ 
ly. Fluff fell in, of course, 
but nobody seemed to mind it much, and Fluff herself least of all, for 
it was a very warm day, and Mrs. Possett was not there to lament 
the “ ruination ” of her white frock. 

Suddenly Brighteyes exclaimed : “ But where is Nibble?” Sure 
enough, where was that famous horseman ? nobody had seen him 



A PICNIC. 


since he had galloped away up the avenue. “Oh, dear!” sighed 
Fluff, “ perhaps he played wild beast, and somebody took him and 
put him in the Lunatic Asylum ! Do you think anybody did, Uncle 
Jack ? ” 

“ I don’t think he would be likely to play wild beast all alone. 

My fear is that Jose may have been playing, and-but see ! ” he 

added, looking back towards the path by which they had entered the 
glen, “ here comes the young man himself, so now we shall know 
all about it.” 

Nibble came down the path slowly, looking very serious. His 
clothes were covered with dust, his hat was battered out of all shape, 
and he carried his whip under his arm, instead of snapping it gayly 
as he had done when he started. Jose was not to be seen. 

“ Well, Nibble, my boy, what has happened?” asked Uncle Jack, 
cheerily. “ Has Jose been rolling with you again?” “Yes, Uncle!” 
answered Nibble, as he drew near, and threw himself on the mossy 
bank where his uncle was seated, “ he is the worst donkey I ever 
saw ! he wanted some thistles in the hedge, and I wouldn’t let him 
eat them, of course. So then he kicked and reared, but he couldn’t 
get me off that way, and I whipped him a good bit. But then he 
lay down and rolled, and then I couldn't stay on you see! ” “I 
see ! ” said Uncle Jack. “ You were certainly justified in getting off. 
And then Jose went home, I suppose?” “Well, yes, I suppose he 
did,” said Nibble, reluctantly, “ and I have walked a long way, 
Uncle, and I want my dinner.” “Bless me!” cried Uncle Jack, 
“dinner already? Well, come out of the water, you little Nixies, 
and let us see about our grand feast! ” 



i 3 2 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TEAR 


Patter, patter, came all the little white feet, over the mossy stones, 
and over the green turf, and I could not tell whether they looked 
prettier in the water or out of it. There was a rush for the baskets, 
and their contents were tumbled out pell-mell on the grass. Forks, 
spoons, tarts, sandwiches, lemons, followed each other in rapid 
succession. 

“ Now this will never do ! ” said Uncle Jack.” Too many cooks 
spoil the broth, as we know, and we must not spoil our feast. 
Nibble, do you go and gather brush and make a fire. Hap and 
Hazard shall pick some flowers to make wreaths and posies, and 
Brighteyes shall help me to set the table.” “And what fell I do?” 
asked little Downy, piteously; “ I muf do fomefing! ” “ So you 

shall, Downy, ” said 
Uncle Jack ; “ you 

shall chase all the but¬ 
terflies away, so that 
they will not eat up 
the tarts.” 

Now every one was 
happy and busy. The 
twinnies wandered off 
into the meadow near 
by, filling their aprons 
with posies, and chat¬ 
tering merrily, with lit¬ 
tle snatches of song mingling with their pretty talk. It was pleasant 
to hear their sweet voices -singing : 










A PICNIC . 


*33 


Daisy white and Daisy bright, 

And Daisy is my heart’s delight! 

I’ll twine you now in my true-love’s hair. 

And tell me who is the fairest fair ! 

Violet blue and Violet true, 

And Violet filled with diamond dew ! 

I’ll give you now to my true love here, 

And tell me who is the dearest dear ! 

Meanwhile great things were accomplished in the glen. A snowy 
cloth was spread on the emerald turf, and on it were arrayed all the 
good things, in dishes and plates, which had been lately hanging on 
the great sycamore-tree under which the feast was spread. 

“ Nothing like leaves for picnic-plates ! ” said Uncle Jack. “ Now 
then, Brighteyes, hand out that chicken pie! So! now for the 
strawberries and the sponge cake ! ha! this certainly does make one 
hungry.” Indeed it did, as I felt the pangs of hunger merely from 
seeing all the good things in my mirror. “ Go, good dog,” I said to 
my faithful companion, “ and bring me some ice-cream from Mt. 
Vanilla. And dip the ladle into that syllabub cloud that is drifting 
by, for it will make a pleasant addition.” 

Bmfkgth departed on his errand, and I turned again to watch the 
picnic. The kettle was boiling by this time over Nibble’s brush fire, 
and he was calling for the coffee-pot, when suddenly a shrill scream 
was heard from the meadow, and Downy’s voice cried, “ Fomebody 
come! oh! oh! I’m killed!” Brighteyes ran to the rescue, and 
found the little man gazing in terror at a very innocent-looking 
white cow, who was quietly grazing in the meadow. He ran to his 
sister, and clung to her, crying, “ Dat cow looked at me ! I’m killed! ” 


r 34 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAF. 


Brighteyes took his hand and ran back laughing. “ Here is a boy 



who has been killed by a cow’s looking at him,” she said, “ and he 
wants a sandwich.” 

All was ready now. The twins were called, and came back laden 
with flowers ; Nibble came with his coffee-pot, and the grand feast 
began in earnest. Dear! dear! how good everything looked ! 
chicken pie and smoked tongue and sandwiches, and chocolate cus¬ 
tard in a pitcher, and everything else that you can think of. I 
never have chicken pie up here, because there are no chickens, but I 
think it must be very nice, and it was very evident that the mice 
thought so. Uncle Jack carved and helped, and everybody ate and 
drank and chattered merrily. My brother Sun smiled at them, and 
sent millions of sunbeams, twinkling and sparkling over the grass 












A PICNIC. 


*35 


and dancing on the ripples of the brook ; and when they were too 
warm, hosts of merry Winds came flying, and fanned them and 
kissed them. Among them were the seven little fellows who had 
blown Nibble and Brighteyes to China, and they whispered, “ Dear 
little Heavy-Ones ; will you take another flying-trip with us ? ” but 
the children did not hear nor heed them, so nothing further was said. 

When the feast was over, there was a grand washing of spoons and 
forks, and a putting away of what was good and throwing away of 
what was bad. Then came blind-man’s-buff, and hide-and-seek, and 
all manner of games ; and then more paddling and tumbling in the 
brook, splashing and dashing, “for all the world like the forty little 
ducklings! ” Uncle Jack said. “ Oh ! tell us about the little 
ducklings ! ” cried all the mice. And they climbed up the bank and 
sat down in a circle round their uncle, holding up their wet feet to 
dry in the sun. “About the ducklings, eh?” said Uncle Jack, 
“well, let me see if I can remember.” 

The forty little ducklings who lived up at the farm, 

They said unto each other, “oh ! the day is very warm !” 

They said unto each other, “ oh ! the river’s very cool! 

The duck who did not seek it now would surely be a fool I ” 

The forty little ducklings they started down the road, 

And waddle, waddle, waddle, was the gait at which they goed, 

The same it is not grammar, you may change it if you choose ! 

But one cannot stop for trifles when inspired by the Muse. 

They waddled and they waddled, and they waddled on and on, 

Till one remarked, “ oh ! deary me, where is the river gone ? 

We asked the Ancient Gander, and he said ’twas very near, 

He must have been deceiving us, or else himself, I fear.” 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


136 


They waddled and they waddled, till no further they could go, 

Then down upon a mossy bank they sat them in a row. 

They took their little handkerchiefs and wept a little weep, 

And then they put away their heads, and then they went to sleep. 

There came along a farmer, with a basket on his arm, 

And all those little ducklings he took back to the farm, 

He put them in their little beds and wished them sweet repose, 

And fastened mustard plasters on their little webby toes. 

Next day those little ducklings were very, very ill, 

Their mother sent for Dr. Quack, who gave them each a pill. 

But soon as they recovered, the first thing that they did 
Was to peck the Ancient Gander, till he ran away and hid. 

“There!” said Uncle Jack, “weren’t they funny ducklings?” 


“Yes!” said Puff; “is it true, Uncle?” “ Part of it is,” replied 


Uncle Jack. It is true 
about the ducklings run¬ 
ning away, and about the 
farmer’s finding them. I 
know the farmer. His 



name is Mr. Thomas Burn¬ 
ham, and a very good 
farmer he is. But I did 
not see him put the mus¬ 
tard plasters on their feet, 


so I cannot tell about that. “ Then tell us something else, please! ” 
cried Brighteyes. “ No ! no ! ” said Uncle Jack; “ it is six o’clock, 
you bad children! Once upon a time there were five little mice, 
and it was time for them to go home. That is the only story I can 
tell you now.” 







A PICNIC . 


*37 


Well, to be sure, it did seem a shame to go home, just when 
everything was so lovely. But Downy was beginning to rub his 
eyes as if my friend the Sand-man had been blowing into them, and 
the shadows were lengthening, and Brother Sun was beginning to 
call his beams home. So the mice bade farewell to the lovely glen, 
and the merry brook, and trotted up the mossy path as cheerfully, if 
not as quickly as they had trotted down it. Harum-scarum and fly¬ 
away my mice certainly are, but they are almost always cheerful and 

obedient, and that is a great 
thing. Primrose and Violet 
and the rest looked after 
them, and said, “ God bless 
their merry hearts ! ” then 
they curled down under their 
leaves and went to sleep, for 
it was high time. The brook 
sang its sweetest good-bye 
song, as it hurried away toward 
the sea, to tell the gossipping 
waves what a delightful afternoon it had passed; and as if in answer 
to the song, I heard Puff and Fluff singing merrily, as the carriage 
rolled away: 



“ Rosebud fine and Rosebud mine, 

And Rosebud red as the ruby wine, 

I’ll lay you now at my true-love’s feet, 
And tell me who is the sweetest sweet 1 ” 



CHAPTER X. 


THE CARRIAGE CLOUD. 

“ Good evening to you all! ” I said, as I stepped in at the nursery 
window. “ This is a night for a journey, if you please. All the 
rough and unruly Winds are out of the way, for there is to be a 
match to-night between the North-east wind and a Southern tornado, 
to see which can blow the harder, and all their relations have gone to 
look on. But our seven little friends have no liking for such rough 
bear-play, and they are waiting outside, with a carriage-cloud which 
will hold you all. So jump up, and call Nibble and Brighteyes. But 
first, I must know why my Fluff has been crying. You must have 
cried yourself to sleep, my mouse, and that will never do. Tell your 
old Moonman what has happened, for I have been watching a battle 
in Zululand all day, and have seen neither mice nor mousetrap.” 

“ We have had a very melancholy day, Mr. Moonman ! ” replied 
Fluff, “ Vashti Ann has been hanged, and it is a terrible thing to 
hang your own child, even if Nibble does it for you. “Vashti Ann 
hanged!” I exclaimed. “Dear! dear! how very distressing! what 
had she done, pray, and how did it all happen ? ” “ We don’t think 

she meant to do it,” said Puff gravely ; but Nibble said she ought to 
be hanged all the same. You see, we had just dressed the baby” — 
“ and she was Vashti Ann’s own child ! ” Fluff broke in impressively. 




FLUFF. 
























































































































































































































































































I 





































THE CARRIAGE CLOUD . 


H 1 


“Please do not interrupt me, Fluffy!” said Pluffy with dignity- 
“ And we set her down in front of her mother, and told her to say 
her lesson like a good baby, only she can’t really say it, you know, 
but we play she does. So then Fluffy went for a walk with the other 
dolls, but I had to darn a hole in my stocking. Mrs. Posset is teach¬ 
ing me to darn, and it is 
my duty, but I don’t like 
my duty. So I was sit¬ 
ting by the window, and 
nobody was doing any¬ 
thing at all, when sud¬ 
denly Vashti Ann fell 
right down on the baby’s 
head and” — “and 
killed her ! cried Fluff, 
bursting into tears. 
“ Killed her all dead in¬ 
to little pieces ! ’’ “ Flow 
very, very shocking! I said. “And was the wretched mother hurt 
herself?” “No!” answered Puff “Her head was china, Mr. 
Moonman, and the baby’s was wax, you see.” “I see!” said I. 
“ The brass pot and the earthen one ! ” If you had ever seen Vashti 
Ann, Mr. Moonman,” said Fluff through her tears, “you would not 
call her such names as a brass pot. Her hair was gossy as the raven’s 
wing, like the lady in the ballad that Uncle Jack read to us last night; 
and I never wanted to call her Vashti Ann, but I wanted to call her 
Isidora Vienna, but Uncle Jack said her name was Vashti Ann when 



















142 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP ,. 


he buyed her, so I couldn’t help it.” And Fluff dried her eyes with the 
end of the pillow-case, and looked very mournful. “ Well! well! ” I 
said. “ This is certainly very painful. So then you hanged Vashti 
Ann ? ” “ No, Nibble hanged her,” said Fluff, “ with a clothesline, 

and it was a terribul scene, Uncle Jack said it was. And then we 
buried them both together under a rose bush. We are going to have 
a monument over them, but Nibble wants to put “ the Murdered and 
the Murderess” on it, and I won’t have it.” “ I certainly would not! ” 
said I. “ But now you must call Nibble, and Brighteyes too, for the 
little Winds are growing impatient, and we must be off. Dry your 
eyes, little one, and think what a fine ride you are going to have ! ” 

Nibble and Brighteyes were summoned ; and in a few minutes all 
the five mice were sitting comfortably in the very softest, fattest, 
whitest cloud that the whole sky could produce. How it curled up 
round their shoulders, and wrapped itself about them ! and how they 
did enjoy the luxurious softness ! then the seven Winds puffed at it, 
and away it went like a ball of thistledown through the air ! “ Where 
shall we go, my pets ? ” I asked, as I rode along, beside them.” 
“You have the wide world to choose from, und shall go just where 
you please.” “ I want to go to the North Pole, Mr. Moonman! ” 
cried Nibble. “You promised us to take us there, you remember, 
the last time you came. I want to see the icebergs, and the white 
bears, and all the wonderful things there are there! ” “To the 
North Pole it is, then ! ” I replied. “ It is just the night for it, as all 
the savage Winds are away.” 

So we flew northward, far and far away, over cities and hamlets, 
over vast plains and shaggy forests. By the margin of a pond that 


THE CARRIAGE CLOUD . 


x 43 



we passed a tall night-heron was standing on one leg. He looked up 
at us, and was so much astonished that he toppled over and fell into 
the water with a loud splash. How all the mice laughed, and the 
merry Winds with them ! all, that is, except my little Fluff, who 
looked sad, and was still thinking of Vashti Ann. “ Fluffy,” I said, 
“ I must see you smile again. Shall I sing you a song that I heard 
to-day ? ” “ Yes, if you please, Mr. Moonman ! ” said Fluff meekly. 

“ It is a funny little song,” I said. 

“ I heard an Irish mother singing 
it to her baby. She was sitting by 
the door of her cottage with the 
baby in her lap, and she was paring 
potatoes, and all the parings fell 
into the baby’s face, but he did not 
seem to mind it at all, so I sup¬ 
pose it was all right. 









144 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-'lRAE. 


Eight little gurrls wid their aprons on, 

Wint out to get some wather, 

But niver a dhrop could be found at ahl, 

By any mother’s daughter. 

Now well-a-day ! said the eight little gurrls, 

If we git no wather we shall die ! 

Oh ! the very best way, “ said the eight little gurrls; 

Will be for us ahl to cry ! ” 

So they cried and cried, the eight little gurrls, 

And they cried and they cried all day, 

And when evening came, there was wather enough 
For to fill up the salt, salt say ! 

Fluff laughed a little ; and presently she said shyly, “ I can sing a 
song too, Mr. Moonman, if you would like to hear it. It is a song 
about some dogs, and perhaps if you would learn it, you could sing it 
to your dog when you get home.” “ Let us have the song, by all 
means,” I said. “ My dog is very fond of music, and has himself a 



So Fluffy sang her little song ; and in case any of you children 
should liketo sing it for yourselves, I will write down the music as 
well as the words. 


THE CARRIAGE CLOUD . 


*45 



I. 

Jip - py 

and 

Jim - my 

were 

two 

lit 

- tie dogs, 

They 

2. 

Jip - py 

and 

Jim - my 

crept 

out 

a 

- - gain, 

They 

3- 

Jip - py 

and 

Jim - my 

went 

shiv 

- er 

- ing home, 

They 


r\* j_ T _ _ 

i-- 

Sr 

S --J 

0 

* - 0 

Y% - S-T 


0 y 

0 

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Hi b 

0 y 0 

J b-h-A - 

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-j 

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-hr 






i 

L. V- L 

0^ y 0 

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v r 

0 r 


w *~r 


\ 9 

r \ 





\1 

L 

[ 


0 





c 

c 

vent to sail on some float - ing logs, The 
>aid, “ the riv-er is full of rain ! ” They 

>aid, “on theriv - er no more we’ll roam ! And 

fr ** . ml 

logs roll’d 0 - ver: the 

'said, “the wa - ter is 

we won’t go to sail 

* 0 0 


1 r r 

w w 

1 : 

0 0 


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M ^ A 

0 y 0 

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dogs roll’d in, And they got very wet, for their clothes were thin, 

far from dry,’ Ki - hi! ki - hi! ki - hi - yi! ki - hi! 

until we learn how,” Bow - wow ! bow - wow ! bow - wow-wow! bow-wow ! 





























































































































































146 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


“ Bravo ! Fluff*,” I said. “ That is a good song, and they were 
sensible little dogs. It is well to be sure about understanding a 
thing before one attempts it, as Master Nibble would find out, if he 
were once mounted on this frisky moonbeam, at which he is casting 
such longing eyes/’ “ It does look so delightful! ” sighed Nibble. 
“ But after all, the cloud is delightful too, and I suppose I should be 
cold if I were not wrapped up in it. How far north are we now, Mr. 
Moonman ? ” “ Somewhere near the coast of Labrador,” I replied. 

“ Little Winds, lower the cloud a bit, 
that the mice may see the fishing fleet. 
The fishermen are all asleep, but the 
boats are a pretty sight, when they can 
be seen through the fog.” 

Lightly and softly the cloud floated 
downward, and as they descended, the 
merry Winds blew the wreaths of fog 
away, so that we could see the bare 
brown coast, and the hundreds of fishing- 
smacks lying at anchor. Lights gleamed 
at bow and stern. They danced about, 
as the little vessels rocked gently on the 
waves, which seemed to be half asleep, singing soft lullabies to each 
other. 

“ Ripple blue and ripple green, 

Foaming crest and silver sheen, 

Sleep beneath the moon ! 

Till the daylight comes again, 

Waking us to restless pain 
All too soon.” 





THE CARRIAGE CLOUD . 


*47 


“ Yes/' I said, this is a holiday-time for the waves, and still more 
for the fish. All day long the poor creatures have a hard time of it, 
for hundreds and hundreds of skilful and eager fishermen are on the 



look-out for them. But at night their only enemies are those who 
live in the water, and I have heard that the whale and the swordfish 
go to bed at ten o clock regularly, and never stir from their trundle- 
beds till six o’clock in the morning. I do not state that as a fact, 
however, because I am not positively sure about it.” “ Dear me ! ” 
















148 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


said Brighteyes. ‘‘Just fancy a whale in a trundle-bed! how very 
queer he would look! ” “ Does he spout when he’s asleep ? ” in¬ 

quired Fluff anxiously. “ Because the bedclothes would get wet, you 
know, and he would take cold ! ” 

Here, I am sorry to say, the other mice laughed, and Fluffy does not 
like to be laughed at, so she was silent. Then said one of the seven 
Winds, “ I never saw any of them in bed, but I have seen their races, 
and very funny they are. They have hurdle-races every Tuesday 
afternoon, jumping over the fragments of wrecks which are strewn all 
over the bottom of the sea. They lead a merry life, those whales ; 



what with hurdle-races and fish hunts and spouting matches. If one 
could not live in the air, the next best thing would be to live in the 
water, I think. Hi! yonder is a fleet of icebergs. Look, little 
Heavyones! that is a sight worth seeing.” 

Surely, it was very beautiful, though terrible. My silver beams 












THE CARRIAGE CLOUD . 


149 


lighted up the huge masses of ice, till they looked like mountains of 
crystal, moving slowly over the face of the water. The children 
gazed at them, half frightened, half-admiring, and wrapped them¬ 
selves more closely in the warm, fleecy cloud. The icebergs formed 
a huge circle, and midway in it the cloud floated, rocking like an airy 
vessel as the Winds breathed softly on it. We were all silent for a 
time : then Brighteyes asked in a half-whisper. “ Is this the North 
Pole, Mr. Moonman ? ” Why, no, Brighteyes ! ” said Puff. “ It 
can’t be the Pole, for there isn’t any pole for it to be!” “Yes,” I 
said, “ that is one way of putting it. We have not reached the North 
Pole, my mice, and indeed I think we shall hardly go so far to-night, 
for I see that these icebergs are waiting for the North Wind to blow 
them home, and that is a sign that he will soon be here. He is a 
disagreeable fellow, and might be rude to you, so we will fly over to 
Greenland instead, and see some little friends of mine there. Will 
that suit you just as well ?” “ Oh ! yes,” cried the five voices. “ It 

will be better, for we want to see what the people are like in these 
strange places.” So we floated low till we came to a certain small 
Esquimaux village on the west of Greenland. “ What are all those 
queer humps of snow on the ground ?” asked Fluff. “ Oh ! ” cried 
Nibble, clapping his hands, “/know! they are houses, for I have 
seen pictures of them. See ! there is smoke coming out of the top 
of one. “And now somebody is coming out of the doorway. Oh ! 
it is a bear, Mr. Moonman! do they have tame bears ? And he is 
brown, and I thought they were all white.” “ Gently, Nibble! ” I 
said, “your eyes are very sharp usually, but it is shocking that you 
should not know a boy from a bear, That is Nayato, one of the 


150 FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 

young friends of whom I spoke just now. There comes his brother 
Kotchink, and the small figure creeping out of the next house is Pol- 
po ? the friend and playmate of the two other boys. Now they will 
have fine sport, for this is their play-time, and they are as fond o 1 



play as any of you.” The five mice leaned over the edge of the 
doud as far as they dared, and watched the Esquimaux boys with 
breathless interest. They were queer little fellows, clad in furs from 
head to foot, and were fat and oily-looking, as indeed anyone might 



















THE CARRIAGE CLOUD . 



be wno ate blubber three times a day : but otherwise they were 
apparently much like boys all over the world. They chased each 
other, and played hide-and-seek behind blocks of ice and snow, and 
amused themselves in all kinds of ways. Their only playthings were 
some bones of the seal and walrus, nicely polished, but they seemed 
to have just as much fun with them as if they had been the finest 
marbles or the most superlative tops that the world could produce. 
“ How jolly they look! ” said Nibble. “ I wish I could jump down 
and play with them ! and oh ! don’t they talk strangely, Brighteyes ? 
“ Wogglety wagglety, chacka-chacka punksky ” — what are they say¬ 
ing, Mr. Moonman ? ” 

“Nayato is telling Pol- 
po of the narrow es¬ 
cape his father had 
yesterday,” I replied. 

“ It seems that he was 
out on the flat ice 
looking out for seals. 

He had just harpoon¬ 
ed a fine fellow, and 
was just on the point 
of putting him on his 
sledge, when he heard 
a loud snuffling noise 
behind him ; and turn¬ 
ing round, saw to his 
horror a huge white 





















H 2 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP ,; 


bear, squatting on the ice within a few yards of him, and apparently 
trying to decide whether the seal or the seal-hunter would make the 
more savory meal. Wallop, however, (that is the man’s name,) had 
no doubt about the matter. He flung the seal towards his Polar 
Majesty, and took to his heels, fortunately reaching his reindeer- 
sledge in time to escape being made the second course of Bruin’s 
dinner. “ Chacka-chacka punksky ” means “ I will kill that bear 
when I am a man.” 

“ Oh ! how exciting that must have been ! ” cried Nibble. “ I 

think I should like 
to be an Esquimaux, 
Mr. Moonman ! ” 
“ Couldn’t you leave 
me here for a week 
or two ? ” “ To live 

in a snow hut, and 
eat blubber and 
drink train-oil ? ” I 
asked in return. 
“ No, my mouse, I 
could not, or at least 
I would not. And 
that reminds me that 

home again, for 
morning will soon 
be here. Blow, little Winds, blow the cloud back as fast as you can.” 


we must be flying 





THE CARRIA GE CLOUD. 


153 


How the seven little fellows puffed out their cheeks, and flapped 
their wings! and how the cloud flew through the air! The mice 
looked back regretfully, but the Esquimaux boys were already out of 
sight. Southward and still southward we flew, the Winds striving 
with might and main to keep up with my swift beam. Over land 
and sea, mountain and valley, forest and meadow, till at last the 
great linden trees around the Mousetrap were shaking their heads at 
us, and the tall chimneys pointed at us, and said, “ look at those 
children ! they have been out all night, which is shocking. That 
vagrant Moonman is teaching them the worst possible habits ! ” 


CHAPTER XI. 


A BIRTHDAY PARTY. 

“ Uncle Jack ! ” said Fluff, one morning, as she came and stood 
by her uncle’s side in the porch, while he was reading his newspaper. 
“Well, Blossom! ” said Uncle Jack, looking up, “ what is it? any 



more murders in the nursery ? we shall have to hang all those dolls 
before long, I am firmly convinced of it.” 

“ No ! no ! Uncle Jack,” exclaimed Fluff, looking much distressed. 
“ It is nothing about the dolls; and you know that was a waxidentai 















































A BIRTHDAY TARTY. 


55 


murder, Uncle, and I don’t see why you laugh about it.” “ There! 
there ! little woman,” said the good uncle, taking her on his knee and 
kissing her ; “ she shall not be teased about her children. But now 
let me hear quickly what you want to say, Blossom, for I must finish 
reading my newspaper.” 

“ Well, Uncle,” said Fluff, in a confidential tone, “ this is Peepsy’s 
birthday, you know, and I want to make some pottery for him. I 
have made a little, but there is something queer about it, and I want 
you to help me.” 

“Stop!” said Uncle Jack, gravely. “Let us understand this 
thing thoroughly. Peepsy, you say ? Peepsy ? I don’t seem to 
recall the name. Is she a doll ? ” 

“Oh! no! Uncle Jacket!” cried Fluff. “How could she be a 
doll when she is a bird ? and besides, she isn’t she at all; she is he.” 

“Oh!” said Uncle 
Jack ; “ a bird ! ah yes ! 
that alters the case. 
And you want to make 
some pottery for him 
eh ? why, what’s the 
matter ? have you 
broken his water-dish, 
or his bath-tub ? ” 

Fluffy sighed and 
looked despondent. 
Then she said very gent¬ 
ly, “ Perhaps you are 

















156 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


not quite well this morning, Uncle Jack, for I cannot make you pus> 
sibly understand anything. When I say pottery, I mean pottery 
with rhymes in it, like the Riginal Poems. Don’t you know ‘ The 
Lobsters black, when boiled he’s red ?’ that’s what I mean.” 

“To be sure!” suid Uncle Jack. “I am certainly very stupid 
this morning, but now I understand. We are to make sorr i rhymes, 
(we call it poetry , Fluffy dear, not pottery,) about Peepsy, a bird, 
whose birthday is to be celebrated to-day. And it is to be like 
the Original Poems for Infant Minds; and you have made part of it, 
and I am to help you with the rest. Is that all right, my Blossom ? ” 
“ Yes, you clever Uncle ! ” cried Fluff, clapping her hands. “ That 
is all right, and the paper is all ready in the library, please, dear.” 

“ Oh ! you little monkey! ” said Uncle Jack, laughing and laying 
aside his paper. “ Well, the sooner it is done the sooner it is done 
with, as Mrs. Posset says. So run along, and I will follow you.” 

Fluff led the way joy¬ 
fully to the library, and 
for some time the two 
were closeted together, in 
deep and earnest consulta¬ 
tion. At length Fluff 
came out, looking very 
happy and proud, waving 
a paper in her hand. She 
ran up to the nursery, 
where Puff and Downy 
were, busy with the doll 



































THE DOLLS NURSERY. 







































































































































































































































































































































































































































































A BIRTHDAY PARTY. 


159 


family, the remaining members of which were more tenderly cher¬ 
ished than ever, since the deaths of Vashti Ann and her daughter. 
Fluff entered in triumph with her paper. “ Here is the pottery, 
Puffy ! ” she said. “ Uncle Jack says it isn’t pottery, but something 
else ; but here it is, anyhow.” 

“ Oh ! how nice! ” said Puff. “ Sit down and read it to the 
children and Peepsy, won’t you, Fluff?” 

So Fluff sat down, and as soon as she had recovered her breath, 
read as follows : 

Our Puffy has a little bird, 

And Peepsy is his name, 

And now I’ll sing a little song, 

To celebrate the same. 

He’s yellow all from head to foot. 

And he is very sweet, 

And very little trouble, for 
He never wants to eat. 

He never asks for water clear, 

He never chirps for seed, 

For cracker or for cuttlefish, 

For sugar or chickweed. 

“ Oh what a perfect pet! ” you cry, 

But there’s one little thing, 

One drawback to the bonny bird, 

Our Peepsy cannot sing. 

He chirps no song at dawn or eve, 

He makes no merry din, 

But this, one cannot wonder at, 

For Peepsy’s made of tin. 

“ Isn’t it lovely ? ” said Puff, drawing a long breath. “ It pre 


i6o 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


scribes him perfectly. Doesn’t it, you dear Peepsy ? ” she added, 
holding up a blue cage about 
two inches square, in which 
hung the precious bird. “And 
did you make it almost all, 

Fluffy?” 

“ Well — no ! ” said Fluff, 
considering, “ not almost all , 
but almost a good deal of it. 

I said all the things I wanted 
to say, and Uncle Jack 
changed some of the words, and put rhymes into them. I think it 
is nice,” she continued, “ and I am glad you like it, Puff. But now 
we must make haste and dress all the dolls in their best clothes, for 
Nibble and Brighteyes promised to give Peepsy a birthday party, 

you know, and they are 
getting it ready in the 
garden, under the cotton¬ 
wool tree.” 

“The cotton-wool 
tree ! ” said I to myself. 
“ I think I must look and 
see what that means.” 
So I tipped my glass 
just a hair’s breadth, 
towards the lower part of 
the garden. There, sure 



































A BIRTHDAY TARTY. 161 

enough, were Nibble and Brighteyes, hard at work amid the new- 
mown hay. They were making it into five hay-cocks ? which were 
arranged in a circle under a huge balm-of-Gilead tree. The ground 
was covered with the pods which had fallen from the tree, all filled 
with white soft silk cotton, and I knew this must be the cotton-wool 

tree. Grim was tied to 
another tree hard by, a 
position which he did not 
enjoy, to judge from his 
impatient jumping and 
barking 

“Yes, Grim, I know it 
isn’t at all nice to be tied 
up ! ” said Nibble, in reply to a long howl of protest from the dog. 
“ But we cannot have you jumping over our thrones. When the 
party is all ready, you shall come to it, so you ought to be patient. 
Now, Brighteyes, if you will make a little cotton-wool throne in the 
middle for Peepsy. I will get the lunch ready. Where are the three 
bones for the dogs ? ” 

“Over there, behind Fluff’s hay-cock,” said Brighteyes. “And 
there are five ginger-bread birds that Susan made, one for each of 
us, and the wooden turkey out of the doll-house for Peepsy, because 
he won’t really eat it, you know. Oh ! and we ought to have some¬ 
thing for Tomty, Nibble, for we invited him, and he said he would 
certainly come. You might ask Susan for a cup of tea when you go 
up to call the children, for I heard Tomty tell her yesterday that all 
the vegetables he wanted were bread and tea.” 




162 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


“ Well, so I will! ” said Nibble. “ And if Susan will not give us 
any, he can have a cup of milk, and play it is tea.” 

So away went Nibble, jumping on the hay-cocks, and whistling as 
he went. Soon he returned, with the three little mice trotting behind 
him, and Tomty, with his rake over his shoulder, bringing up the 
rear. 

“ Here we all are! ” cried Puff, joyfully. “ Is the party ready, 
Brighteyes ? I think Peepsy is very impatient, though he behaves 
beautifully.” 

“Yes, everything is ready!” replied Brighteyes. “Here is 

Peepsy’s throne in the 
middle, and these 
hay-cocks are ours. 
Put him on his throne, 
Puffy — so ! now all 
sit down yourselves, 
please, and take the 
dolls in your laps.” 
The mice and Tomty 
obeyed meekly, and 
perched themselves 

on the hay-cocks as best they might. 

“ Now,” continued Brighteyes, “we must all have names, of course, 
because it isn’t any fun just to be ourselves at a party. I will be the 
Countess Kinchinjunga. What will you be, Nibble ! ” 

“ Oh! I am the Bold Baron of Borodino,” said Nibble. “ Puff 
and Fluff can be the Princess Perriwinkle and the Marchioness of 



A BIRTHDAY TARTY. 


163 

Mulligatawney, and Downy shall be Nosolio, the Niggardly Knife- 
Grinder of Nineveh. There’s a fine name for you, Downy, boy ! ” 
The Niggardly Knife-Grinder smiled contentedly, and said, “ Yef, 
I’m dat, only I tan’t say it.” 

“ And now,” said Nibble, “ we will have the lunch, and then we 
must all make speeches to Peepsy, because that is the proper thing. 
Countess Kinchinjunga, produce the feast! ” Nibble said this with 
a very lordly air, and waved his hand with great dignity ; but unfor¬ 
tunately at that moment he lost his balance, and rolled off the hay¬ 
cock, to the great amusement of the other mice. But Brighteyes 
uttered a cry of distress. “ Oh ! Nibble, you have rolled on Tomty’s 
cup of tea and upset it. What shall we do ? ” 

“ Never mind, Miss ! ” said Tomty, smiling, “ sure I’m not hungry, 
Miss, let alone it’s almost dinner time. And thank ye kindly all the 

same, Miss 
Brighteyes.” 

“Well, 
Tomty, you 
shall hear the 
speeches, 
anyhow,” said 
Nibble, con- 
solingly/'and 
that will be 
the best part 
of it; though 

I am very sorry I upset the tea,” he added, “ and you shall have my 









































164 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TEAR 



gingerbread bird, if you like, instead.” But Tomty declined the 
bird, with many thanks; and now the “party” began in earnest. 
Grim was untied, and a sharp whistle from Tomty brought Gruff and 
Grab to see what was going on. Each dog received a huge bone as 
his share of the feast, and each showed his delight in his own way. 
Then the five gingerbread birds were distributed, and the wooden 
turkey, which was certainly a work of art, was placed before Peepsy’s 

cage with a great deal of 
ceremony. Peepsy him¬ 
self manifested no ex¬ 
citement, but no doubt he 
enjoyed himself in his 
own way. Then the tur¬ 
key was handed round to 
all the dolls, Fanny Els- 
sler and Katinka and 
Sally Bradford ; and Puff 
declared that they all had 
as much as they could 
possibly eat, which was 
probably true. When the 
feast was over, Nibble 
rose and said, solemnly, 
“ the speeches will now 
begin. Tomty, you are 
the oldest, and you shall 
make the first speech to 












A BIRTHDAY PARTY. 


i6 5 

Peepsy.” “ Is it the little tin fowl in the cage, sir ? ” asked Tomty. 
“ Well, Mr. Peepsy, I’ve lived forty years, man and boy, and never 
made a speech yet, sir, but here’s wishing you good health, and long 
life to you, Mr. Peepsy ; and if you live till you sing a song, you’ll 
come to a good old age, I’m thinking.” And Tomty sat down, amid 
the applause of his audience. 

“ That was a very good speech, Tomty,” said Nibble, with a patron¬ 
izing air, though it was short. Now hear mine, all of you. Ahem ! ” 
and the young orator, standing on the top of his hay-cock, struck an 
imposing attitude. “ Friends, Romans, and Tomty, lend me your 
ears! this is Peepsy’s birthday, and he is one year old. I bought 
him myself at Jane Evans’s shop, so I ought to know. He will 
never be one year old again, and neither shall we, which makes us all 
sad.” “ I isn’t fad a bit! ” interrupted Downy, with a gleeful 
chuckle. “Well, you ought to be ! ” said Nibble, “ but you are too 
young to know much, I suppose. Peepsy is sad, and he might weep 
if he had any eyes, but they are only little holes in his head. It is 
sad not to have any eyes, but it is an advantage not to be able to 
weep. If Puff hadn’t had any eyes, she wouldn’t have made such a 
fuss yesterday when I jumped on her toe from the apple tree, be¬ 
cause I didn’t mean to.” “ I don’t think that is very nice to put in a 
speech, Nibble ! ” said Puff, looking rather hurt. “ Well,” said Nib¬ 
ble, hastily, “ I won’t say anything more about it, but I want to say 
this : 

When I bought him at Jane Evans’s shop, 

Peepsy was glad. 

Now that he is one year old and knows that he won’t be it any more, 

Peepsy is sad.” 


166 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


‘‘That is poetry,” he added, “ and that is the best way to finish a 
speech.” 

Upon this Nibble sat down, and after a moment’s pause, Bright- 
eyes rose, and spoke as follows: “ Peepsy, I am afraid you think it is 
very hard that you have to stay in your cage all the time. I know I 

should not like to live 
in a cage, but then I 
am not afraid of cats. 
But if you were to 
come out and be alive, 
you would be dread¬ 
fully afraid of the china 
cat in the doll-house, 
you know you would. 
Thus we see that all 
things are for the best! 
and I am sure your 
cage is a perfect beauty, 
which must be a great comfort. Perhaps you think you would like 
some worms, Peepsy; and we would certainly get you some if you 
could eat them, but you cannot. My dear Peepsy, I will now con¬ 
clude my speech, wishing you many happy returns of the day.” 

Now it was Puff’s turn, but to my surprise, this little mouse, who 
is generally very ready with her tongue, seemed to hang back. “ Let 
Fluffy read the pottery! ” said Puff. “ I am so hot, and my head 
aches so, I don’t think I can make my speech.” 

So Fluff read the famous piece of pottery, to the great delight of 




A BIRTHDAY TARTY. 


6 7 


all. Meanwhile I was looking more closely at Puff, and though I 
was —well, how many miles off? answer, some of you big children ! 
certainly a great many ! — still I could see plainly enough that the 


child was not well. Her 
cheeks were hot and 
flushed, and her blue 
eyes shone with a strange 
brightness, very different 
from their usual sunny 
light. I was glad to see 
that Tomty was also ob¬ 
serving his little pet; and 
presently he said quietly, 



“ Miss Puff, dear, the sun is too hot for you. Shall Tomty give you 
a ride on his shoulder, and we’ll find Mrs. Posset ? ” 

“ Yes, please, Tomty! ” said Puff, wearily; “I am so very tired, 
though I don’t know why I should be.” 

The other mice clustered round their sister, and kissed and patted 
her. They saw that Tomty looked anxious, and when he had carried 
Puff up to the house in his arms, they soon followed, taking Peepsy 
and the dolls with them. The three dogs only remained under the 
cotton-wool tree, discussing the party very gravely, and wondering 
why it was that human beings never cared to gnaw bones. And so, 
rather sadly, ended Peepsy’s birthday party. 



I jumped on the back of a dragon-fly, 
And flew and flew till I reached the sky, 


I pulled down a cloud that was hiding the blue. 
And all the wee stars came tumbling through. 


They tumbled down and they tumbled round, 

And turned into flowers as they touched the ground, 


So come with me, little children, come, 

And down in the meadow I’ll pick you some. 

























CHAPTER XII. 


SICKNESS IN THE MOUSE-TRAP. 

I was very anxious about my little Puff, though I had so much to 
attend to during the rest of that afternoon, that I could not even 
look in my glass to see how things were going at the Mouse-trap. 
A young and giddy Comet had got his tail twisted round one of my 
mountain-peaks, and could not disentangle it, and this was a pretty 
piece of work, as you may imagine. He wriggled and flounced 
about in a truly disgraceful manner, and it was only by making 
Bmfkgth bite his nose very hard indeed that I was enabled to get 
him free, and send him off to his grandmother with a good scolding. 
(A comet cannot move his tail when his nose is bitten. This is a 
fact not generally known on the earth.) But late in the evening, 
when I knew it was sleepy-time for all the little people down below, 
I mounted my faithful Flash, and flew down to see how my mice in 
general, and my Puffy mouse in particular, were doing. 

I found the aspect of the nursery somewhat changed. Downy’s 
crib was gone, and Puff was alone in the large bed. Uncle Jack was 
leaning over her, listening to her heavy breathing, and beside the 
bed sat Mrs. Posset, in a huge wrapper and a night-cap, evidently 
prepared to sit up all night. As I came in, Uncle Jack was just say¬ 
ing “ The doctor says it is certainly scarlet fever, Mrs. Posset, so I 



170 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


shall send the other children off by the early train, to their aunt, who 
is at the sea-shore.” 

“ Dear to goodness, sir ! ” cried Mrs. Posset. “And who is to go 
with the lambs ? and Downy never away from me a night since he 
was born, that is to say, further than the next room! ” 

“ I shall go with them, of course,” said Uncle Jack, “and I shall 
take Susan as nursery-maid, that they may not give Mrs. Wilton too 
much trouble. You will have time to pack their clothes in the morn¬ 
ing, Mrs. Posset. I must go now to give John and Thomas their 
orders, and you are to call me if Puffy wakes, remember! ” 

Then Uncle Jack went out softly, and Mrs. Posset, after settling 
herself comfortably among her cushions, put on her spectacles, and 
opening a huge Bible which lay in her lap, began to read. Now was 
my chance, for the good nurse was far too wide awake to hear any¬ 
thing I said, and Puff was in a heavy, feverish sleep. 

’‘So, now we are going to have some delightful evenings to¬ 
gether, ” I said, as I sat down by her pillow. “You have the 
scarlet fever, my mouse, and all the other mice are to be sent away 
to the sea-shore, it seems.” 

“ Are they ? ” said Puff. “ I am glad of that, for then they will 
not be ill. But it will be very lonely without them, Mr. Moonman. 
And shall I feel so sick all the time, I wonder ? ” 

“ I hope not, indeed! ” I replied ; “ and as for loneliness, not a 
bit of it. In the day time you will have Mrs. Posset and Uncle Jack 
to take care of you and pet you, and at night you will have me, and 
the dolls beside. I see that you have Sally Bradford here beside 
you. You will find her quite companionable, I assure you.” 


SICKNESS IN THE MOUSE-TRAP. 171 

“ But the dolls cannot talk, Mr. Moonman !” said Puff. “ I have 
often and often tried to make them, but they never say a word.” 



“ That is because you only try in the day time, Miss Puff! ” said 
Sally Bradford, in a shrill voice. “ No well-bred doll would ever 
think of talking in the day time, as Mr. Moonman can tell you. 
Try us at night, when you are asleep, and you will find that we have 
quite as much to say for ourselves as other people.” 












































































































I 7 2 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


“ But it seems so queer to be doing things when one is asleep ! ” 
said PufY. 

“ Why queerer than to do them when one is awake ?” I asked. 
“ The dolls wonder at you quite as much as you wonder at 
them, depend upon it! And now, what shall I do to amuse you, 
mouse of mine ? will you have a story, or a song, or what will you 
have ? ” 

“ Of course I will have both, if I may, Mr. Moonman! ” answered 
Puff. “ I should like to hear stories and songs every days and all 
nights, and never stop ! ” 

So I sang, and all the dolls sat up in their beds to listen The 
Jumping-Jack held up his hands with delight, and the wooden Nut¬ 
cracker grinned from ear to ear. Only Mrs. Posset sat up in the big 
chair, wide awake, and heard never a word. 




SICKNESS IN THE MOUSE-TEAT. 


i 73 


THE FAIRY TEA-PARTY. 

I went to take tea with the three little faries 
Who live in the depth of the hazel wood. 

And what do you think we had for supper ? 

Oh ! everything dainty and everything good. 

There was tea in a buttercup, cream in a blue-bell, 

Marigold butter and hollyhock cheese, 

Slices of strawbeny served in a nutshell, 

And honey just brought by the liveried bees. 

We sat ’neath the shade of a silvery mushroom, 

All lined with pale pink, nicely fluted and quilled, 

And around us the cup-moss held up its red goblets, 

Each one with a dew drop like diamond filled. 

We ate and we drank and we chatted together, 

Till the fireflies lighted us off to our beds ; 

And we all fell asleep in our cots made of rose leaves, 

With pillows of thistledown under our heads. 

“ How nice that must have been ! ” sighed Puffy. “ I wish I 
could see all the lovely things you see, Mr. Moonman ! Don’t you 
want Fluffy and me to come up and be your little girls in the Moon ? 
then we could see all the wonderful things for ourselves.” 

“ And I should not have the pleasure of telling you about them,” 
I replied, “ which would be truly melancholy. No, no, my little one ! 
you are far better off where you are. But now we are to have a 
story, and what shall it be about ? ” 

“ Tell her about the poor little woodmouse, Master ! ” said Flash, 
who had been staring at Sally Bradford with all his might for ten 
minutes, in the vain hope of making her wink. “ The little wood- 
mouse ? ” I said. “ To be sure ! you mean the one that Twinkle 
saw in the forest the other night. It is rather a sad story, but Puffy 


*74 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


shall hear it. It seems, Puffy, that Twinkle, who, as you know, is 
one of Flash’s brothers, was in the oak wood one night last week, 
wandering about as is his wont, chatting with such flowers as were 
still awake, and seeing all that he could see. As he twinkled over 
the grass near the foot of a great oak tree, he noticed something 
moving, and stopped to see what it was. The something turned out 
to be a woodmouse, the prettiest little lady woodmouse that ever was 
seen. She was sitting under a huge yellow toadstool, (very different 
from the pink-lined mushroom which sheltered the three little fairies,) 
feasting on acorns to her heart’s content. Twinkle said it was really 
astonishing to see how fast she cracked and ate them, throwing the 
shells to right and left, and glancing about with her sharp black 
eyes, in constant fear of some intruder. Presently she heard a 
rustling among the leaves, and, anxious to make sure of her supper, 
she hastily put two acorns into her mouth, cramming one into either 
cheek. Then she sat up, and tried to look very dignified, as another 
little woodmouse, as sleek and bright-eyed as herself, appeared upon 
the scene. He evidently knew the little lady, for when he saw her 
he stopped and made a low bow, pressing one paw on his heart in a 
most affecting manner. Then advancing toward her, he said softly, 
‘ Miss Woodmouse, I have been searching for you all the evening, 
for I have been very anxious to see you. I trust that my presence is 
not disagreeable to you, Miss Woodmouse ? ’ He paused for a 
reply, but none came, so he went on. ‘ Lovely creature, I have long 
admired you, and thought you the fairest mouse I ever gazed upon. 
The brightness of your eyes, the length of your tail, the sharpness 
of your whiskers, all proclaim you the belle of the forest. How 



ISS WOODMOUSE. 

4 




















































































































































































































































































* 





















SICKNESS IN THE MO USE-TRAP. 


177 


happy should I be, if I could claim these charms for my own ! I 
have a very snug nest, lined with moss, and well stored with nuts 
and acorns for the winter. Say, will you share that nest with me ? 
Miss Woodmouse, will you be mine ? answer me, I implore you ! ’ 

“ Poor little Miss Woodmouse ! it was really pitiful to see her dis¬ 
tress. She could not speak, on account of the two acorns in her 
mouth ; and she was so ashamed of being greedy, that she did not 
dare to take them out. So she just sat still and looked at the little 
gentleman, who in turn sat and looked at her, much amazed at her 
silence. 

‘ Alas ! ’ he said, * am I so hateful to you that you will not even 
speak to me ? One word, Miss Woodmouse, to say that I may hope ! ’ 
But not one word could Miss Woodmouse say, though her long tail 
quivered with emotion ; and at length her little lover, fairly dis¬ 
couraged, turned sadly away, and disappeared among the fallen 
leaves. 

“ Then little Miss Woodmouse took the two acorns out of her 
mouth, and looked at them ; but her appetite was gone. She threw 
them away with an exclamation of sorrow, and putting her little pink 
pocket-handkerchief up to her little black eyes, she hurried off to 
her lonely nest.” 

“Now that is the whole story, and the moral of it is that we should 
not be greedy. Lay it to heart, my Puff, and do not insist upon 
drinking the whole of that medicine that Mrs. Posset is preparing 
for you. You will have to wake up and take it now, Mousekin, so 
good-bye for the present! ” 

Puffy smiled a good-bye, and opened her sweet eyes with the 


178 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


smile still on her face. I looked back as I stepped out of the win¬ 
dow, and will do her the justice to say that she showed no dispo¬ 
sition to be greedy as far as the medicine was concerned. 



CHAPTER XIII. 


OFF TO THE SEA-SHORE. 



Uncle 
Jack was as 
good as his 
word, and the 
next morning 
was a busy 
time at the 
Mouse - trap. 

Trunks were packed, jackets were 
brushed, and wonders were accomplished 
in the way of getting ready before break¬ 
fast. As I looked in my glass, there seemed to be only two rooms 
in the house where there was no bustle and confusion : one was the 
nursery, where Puff lay, half-awake and wondering what all the noise 
was about; and the other was the room next to it, where my dear 
little bluff was kneeling by the bed, praying that her darling sister 
might be “ quite all perfectly well ” very soon. 

And now the carriage was announced ; the “ good-byes ” were 
softly whispered at the nursery door, and away went four of my mice, 









160 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


leaving the poor old Mouse-trap quite deserted, with only Mrs. Pos¬ 
set and the cook and faithful Tomty, beside the poor little sick 
mouse. 

A few Jiours journey on the train brought the travelers to the 



lovely sea-shore place where Aunt Grace Wilton was spending the 
summer : and what was their delight on leaving the train, to find 
Aunt Grace herself waiting for them, with her basket-wagon, and 
Max, the pretty black pony. I know Mrs. Wilton, though she does 
not remember me. I used to pay her frequent visits when she was a 
child, and now I go to see Roger, her little boy, who is a great friend 
of mine, and a fine little fellow. He had the scarlet fever when he 
was two years old, so that his mother had no fear of his taking it 
















OFF TO THE SEA-SHORE . 181 

again. Well how all those mice managed to get into that pony- 
carriage is more than I can tell you : but they did manage it some¬ 


how, and after bidding good-bye to their dear Uncle Jack, who was 
going back in the next train, as he did not like to stay away from 
Puff, they rolled away at a fine pace toward Glenwood, while Susan 
followed in the carts with the trunks. 

A very pretty place Glenwood is, and very much delighted the 
four mice were, when they tumbled out of the carriage, and saw 
Roger waiting to welcome them. Here I will make a little picture 
of Roger, by the way, as of course a great many of you have never 
seen him. 

“ How do, Nibble ?” he cried, jumping up and down with joy as 
he saw his cousins. “ How do, all of you ! come and see my pets ! 









I§2 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP . 


I-have-a-cat-and-some-birds-and-a-rabbit-and-a-lamb-because-I-have 


n’t-any-brothers-and-sisters-you-know-and-a-dog-big-enough-to-eat- 
them-all-up-and-do-you-think-Puff-would-like-a-white-kitten ? ” 


Roger said all this as if it were one 
word, and it was no wonder that the four 
mice looked rather bewildered. 



“ Gently, Roger! gently! ” said his 


mother, laughing. “Your cousins cannot 
understand a word you say, if you talk so 


fast.” 

A “ I heard ‘lamb’ and ‘ kitten,’ Auntie,” 
Ir*. 

said Fluff? sedately, “ and I should like to 
see them very much indeed.” 


“ I want to go down to the beach, please, Auntie ! ” cried Nibble. 

“And so do I! ” said Brighteyes, eagerly. 

“ Very well, dears,” said Mrs. Wilton ; “ you may run wherever 
you like, if you are not tired. I shall take little Downy in the house 
with me, for I see he is very sleepy, and wants a nap. But, my 
chickens, don’t you want some lunch before you go out to play ? ” 
she added, turning back from the door. 

“ Oh ! no, Auntie ! ” they all cried. “We had lunch in the train, 
as much as we wanted.” 

And off they all scampered in different directions, while Mrs. Wib 
ton went into the house, carrying little sleepy Downy in her arms. 
Fluff and Roger walked away hand in hand, and I tipped mv glass 
so that I could follow. 

“ Have you many pets, Fluff?” asked Roger. 


OFF TO THE SEA-SHORE. 


183 


•‘No ! ” replied Fluff. “We have only the three dogs, and Jose, 
the brown donkey, and the kitten that Brighteyes found in the tree. 



But then we have a great many dolls,” she added, “ and I suppose 
you have’nt any dolls, because you are a boy.” 


“ Animals is better than dolls,” said Roger. “ Here is my lamb, 
under this tree. Isn’t he lovely ? here, Belladonna, come and have 
some sugar, dear ! ” The lamb, which was a very pretty one, came 
up to be petted, and ate a lump of sugar with every sign of 
approval. 

“ What did you say his name was ? ” asked Fluff. 

“Belladonna,” replied Roger, “because he wears a bell, you 
know, /think it is a very pretty name, but Mamma laughs at it.” 

“ It’s medicine, isn’t it ? ” said Fluff, doubtfully. 

“ Well, yes ! ” said Roger ; “ but that doesn’t make any difference. 
Rhubarb is medicine, too, and yet it makes nice pies and tarts.” 

























184 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


“ So it does ! ” said Fluff; “ I never thought of that. And have 

your othei 
pets, medi¬ 
cine - names, 
too, Roger? ” 
“ The dog 
is Blanco,” 
replied 
Roger. “ I 
called him 
that before I 
had him, be¬ 
cause I thought he was going to be white, and Blanco means 
white. And then he went and was black when he came, but I don’t 
like to change names, so I called him so just the same. And I call 
my cat Plunket, after the story of the Chattering Cat, and the rabbit 
is Binks, and— oh ! well, let us go in and see them, for they are all 
in the play-room, and it is hot out here! ” 

And Roger led the way to the house, while Fluff followed meekly, 
wondering, as she said afterwards to Brighteyes, how any one could 
talk so fast without “ getting his tongue all tied up with his teeth.” 

In the large, sunny play-room I left the two little ones, having a 
grand game of romps with Blanco and Binks, while the birds, let 
loose from their cage, fluttered about their heads, in no fear of the 
well-behaved cat, who sat and looked at them as if she had no idea 
that they were good to eat. Yes it was a regular Happy Family, and 
a very pretty sight. 



OFF TO THE SEA-SHORE. 



185 

But I wanted to see what Nibble and Brighteyes were about, so I 
turned my glass towards the beach, which was not far from the house, 


though in the other direction. There I found my two eldest mice 
deep in consultation. Nibble was just saying, “ but, Bright, mer¬ 
maids don’t have legs and tails, too, for that would be ridiculous. 
Don’t you remember ? 

‘ The little white mermaidens live in the sea, 

In a palace of silver and gold. 

And their neat little tails are all covered with scales, 

Most beautiful for to behold.’ 

But it doesn’t say anything about legs, and there aren’t any in the 





































186 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


pictures.” “ I can’t help it, Nibble! ” replied Brighteyes, rather 
pettishly. “ I can’t cut off my legs, and I am going to play mer¬ 
maid. I can be the queen, and queens have everything they want, I 
know.” And she turned round, displaying to my view a superb tail 
of seaweed, fastened to her sash, and trailing upon the ground. 

“Well,” said Nibble, “ it is a lovely tail, after all. But we must 
take off our shoes and stockings, and put them in the fort for safe 
keeping. Then we can play ‘ wild white horses ’ and ‘ mermaid ’ 
too.” 

The shoes and stockings were soon off, and safely hidden in a sand 
fort of very superior construction. Then began a wild rushing up 
and down the smooth sandy beach, with much neighing and kicking 
on Nibble’s part, while Brighteyes waved her seaweed tail in a grace¬ 
ful and effective manner, and sang her song of the mermaids. 

“ On wild white horses they ride, they ride, 

And in chairs of pink coral they sit, 

They swim all the night, with a smile of delight, 

And never feel tired a bit.” 

“ Look ! ” said Nibble, “ at that line of rocks running out into the 
water. What fun to jump from one to the other ! come on, Bright¬ 
eyes ! ” No sooner said than done. It was no easy matter to jump 
from one smooth slippery rock to the next, without losing foothold, 
but that made it all the more exciting. 

“ I am the Nixie ! ” said Brighteyes, “ and you are the knight who 
caught her asleep and cut off one of her golden ringlets, so that she 
could not disappear or turn into a fish. Sing, now, and catch me if 
you can ! ” 



ON THE BEACH 



























































































































































































































































































































■ 





















OFF TO THE SEA-SHORE. 


189 


She sprang lightly to the next rock, and thence to the next, while 
Nibble, pursuing her, sang : 

“ Nixie, white Nixie, I have you now ! 

The magic ringlet is clipped from your brow. 

You vanish no more ’neath the shining tide, 

And I have you and hold you, my snow-white bride ! ” 

Brighteyes sang again : 

“ Hunter, rash hunter, your triumph’s not long, 

Your arm drops down ’neath the spell of my song. 

You turn to ice and you turn to stone, 

And the sea-waves laugh as they hear you moan.” 

Here the Nixie waved her tail triumphantly, and flirted it in the 
hunter’s face in a way that was too provoking to be endured. The 
rash youth sprang forward, alighting on the rock and on the Nixie’s 
toe at the same instant. There was a moment of shrieking and 
clutching at the air, as they tried to regain their balance, and then 
with a loud splash, pursuer and pursued disappeared beneath the 
water. 

This was really past a joke, and I became much alarmed. As for 
Bmf kgth, that excellent dog was quite frantic with excitement, and 
his green hair stood on end, causing him to present a truly remark¬ 
able appearance. In another minute, however, we saw the two 
brown heads emerge from the water; Nibble clambered up the rock, 
and pulled his sister up after him ; then breathless and dripping, 
they jumped and climbed back over the long line of rocks, till they 
reached the shore. They sat down on the beach and looked at each 
other in silence for a few minutes. Then Nibble said, “ I say, 
Brighteyes, aren’t you just glad that Mrs. Posset isn’t here? look at 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP, 


190 

your frock, now ! ” “ Oh ! I don’t want to look at it! ” said Bright- 

eyes ; “ and besides your knickerbockers are just as bad. But we 
have lost our hats, Nibble, and they were our best ones. We ought 
to have taken them off when we took off our shoes and — but, 
goodness me ! where are our shoes and stockings ? Nibble, where 
is the fort? I don’t see it anywhere.” 

Indeed, it would have been strange if they had seen it, for the 
rising tide had completely covered it some fifteen minutes before. 
As for the shoes and stockings—“Look, Bright!” said Nibble, 
grasping his sister’s arm, and pointing to the water. Yes, sure 
enough, there they were. Far out of reach, floating serenely along, 
the boots nodding a graceful farewell to their former owners as the 
little waves bore them off on their voyage of discovery, while the 
stockings, less courageous, had yielded to despair, and floated limp 
and piteous, stretching out their scarlet length in a vain appeal for 
rescue. 

This last blow completely sobered the bold spirits of my two mice, 
and as the loud ringing of a bell proclaimed that dinner-time was 
come, they turned silently and mournfully towards the house. 



























































































































































































CHAPTER XIV. 


STORIES AGAIN. 

Poor little Puff! she cer¬ 
tainly was very ill. All day 
long she tossed and moaned in 
feverish pain, to the great dis¬ 
tress of her good uncle, and 
the faithful Mrs. Posset. They 
were very, very anxious about 
her; but the doctor, who came 
every day, said that there was 
no immediate danger, as long 
as the child slept so well at 
night. All night long she slept quietly, sometimes smiling in her 
sleep, and always looking peaceful and happy. Yes, indeed, I flatter 
myself I had a great deal to do with that. Every night I sat by my 
little mouse’s pillow, and told stories and sang songs, till my brother 
Sun came and winked at me through the window, and told me it was 
not night at all, and I must take myself off and leave the field to 
him. Stories ? dear me, there was no end to them; and you shall 


















i 9 4 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


have some of them, if you will. Here is one, for example, of which 
Puff was extremely fond. It was called 

THE FLEA. 

Once upon a time there was a flea. 

Wee wee. 

And he hooped, 

And he hopped, 

And he hopped. 

And as the flea was hopping one day, 

He met a mouse, 

Round the house, 

And he squeaked, 

And he squeaked, 

And he squeaked. 

And when the mouse saw the flea, he said to him, “ what do you 
do for a living ? ” and the flea said “I bite people.” Then the 
mouse said, “ as you have lived upon others, others shall live upon 
you ! ” So he caught up the flea, and he ate him up. And there 
was an end of the flea. 

But as the mouse was squeaking one day, 

He met a cat, 

Very fat, 

And she mewed, 

And she mewed, 

And she mewed. 

And when the cat saw the mouse, she said to him, “ what do you 
do for a living?” And the mouse said, 

“ I nibble cheese, 

And eat fleas.” 

Then the cat said, “ As you have lived upon others, others shall 


STORIES AG AIM. 


*95 


live upon you ! ” So she caught the mouse, and she ate him up. 
And there was an end of the mouse. 



But as the cat was mewing one day, 

She met a dog, 

Named Gog, 

And he barked, 

And he barked, 

And he barked. 

And when the dog saw the cat, he said to her, “ what do you do 
for a living ? ” And the cat said, 

“ I eat mice, 

Because they are nice. ,, 

Then the dog said, “ As you have lived upon others, others shall 



























196 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


live upon you ! ” So he caught the cat, and he ate her up. And 
there was an end of the cat. 

But as the dog was barking one day, 

He met a Chinaman, 

Ting-Pan. 

And he talked, 

And he talked, 

And he talked. 

And when the Chinaman saw the dog, he said to him, “ what do 
you do for a living? ” And the dog said, “ I slay the cat, and like¬ 
wise the rat.” Then the Chinaman said, “ as you have lived upon 
others, others shall live upon you ! ” So he caught the dog, and he 
cooked him with rice, and ate him up. And there was an end of the 
dog. 

But now, you see, the Chinaman had eaten 

The dog, 

Named Gog, 

And the cat, 

Very fat, 

And the mouse, 

Round the house, 

And the flea, 

Wee wee. 

So when he had eaten them all, they all disagreed with him, and 
he died. And there was an end of the Chinaman, Ting-Pan. 

This was Puff’s favorite story, and I had to tell it at least once 
every night, and often twice. Then when that was done, she would 
call for “ Michikee Moo.” You have never heard that, I’ll warrant, 
for you do not, most of you, understand the Pawnee dialect, and 
“ Michikee Moo ” is a Pawnee ballad. The Indian mammas sing it 


STORIES AGAIN. 


I9^ 


to their pappooses, as they rock them in their bark cradles under 
the trees, in the western forests. I had to translate it in into Eng¬ 
lish, of course, for Puff; so here it is. 

MICHIKEE MOO. 


AN INDIAN BALLAD. 

Whopsy Whittlesy Whanko Whee, 

Howly old growly old Indian he, 

Lived on the hill of the Mungo-Paws, 

With all his pappooses and all his squaws. 

There was Wah-wah-bocky, the Blue-nosed Goose, 
And Ching-gach-gocky, the Capering-Moose; 
There was Peeksy Wiggin, and Squawpan too, 

But the fairest of all was Michikee Moo. 

Michikee Moo, the Savoury Tart, 

Pride of Whittlesy Whanko’s heart. 

Michikee Moo, the Cherokee Pie, 

Apple of Whittlesy Whanko’s eye. 


Whittlesy Whanko loved her so 

That the other squaws did with envy glow. 

And each said to the other “ Now what shall we do 
To spoil the beauty of Michikee Moo?” 

“ We’ll lure her away to the mountain top, 

And there her head we will neatly chop!” 

“ We’ll wile her away to the forest’s heart, 

And shoot her down with a poisoned dart!” 

“ We’ll ’tice her away to the river side, 

And there she shall be the Manitou’s bride ! ” 

“ Oh ! one of these things we will surely do, 

And we’ll spoil the beauty of Michikee Moo! ” 


198 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP, 


“ Michikee Moo, thou Cherokee Pie, 

Away with me to the mountain high! ” 

“ Nay, my sister, I will not roam ; 

I’m safer and happier here at home,” 

“ Michikee Moo, thou Savoury Tart, 

Away with me to the forest’s heart! ” 

“ Nay, my sister, I will not go ; 

I fear the dart of some hidden foe.” 

“ Michikee Moo, old Whittlesy’s pride, 

Away with me to the river-side ! ” 

“ Nay, my sister, for fear I fall. 

And wouldst thou come if thou heardst me call ? " 
“ Now choose thee, choose thee thy way of death, 
For soon thou shalt draw thy latest breath. 

We all have sworn that to-day we’ll see 
The last, fair Michikee Moo, of thee ! ” 


Whittlesy Whanko, hidden near, 

Each and all of these words did hear. 

He summoned his braves, all painted for war, 

And gave them in charge each guilty squaw. 

“ Take Wah-wah-bocky, the Blue-nosed Goose 1 
Take Ching-gach-gocky, the Capering Moose ! 
Take Peeksy Wiggin, and Squawpan too, 

And leave me alone with my Michikee Moo ! 

This one away to the mountain-top, 

And there her head ye shall neatly chop. 

This one away to the forest’s heart, 

And shoot her down with a poisoned dart. 

This one away to the river-side, 

And there let her be the Manitou’s bride. 

Away with them all, the woodlands through. 

For I’ll have no squaw save Michikee Moo 1 ” 
Away went the braves, without question or pause. 
And they soon put an end to the guilty squaws; 


STORIES AGAIN. 


199 


They pleasantly smiled when the deed was done, 

Saying “ Ping-ko-chanky ! oh ! isn’t it fun ? ” 

And then they all danced the Buffalo dance, 

And capered about with ambiguous prance ; 

While they drank to the health of the lovers so true, 

Brave Whittlesy Whanko and Michikee Moo. 

“ I wish I had an Indian doll, Mr. Moonman ! ” said Fluff one 
night, after I had sung this ballad to her. “ A little pappoose ! it 
would be so nice ! ” 

“ Nothing is easier ! ” I replied. “ Take Katinka, there, who has 
long black hair; stain her face and neck with walnut juice, and paint 
her with stripes and spots of red and yellow. Then wrap her up in 
a blanket and put some beads round her neck, and you have an 
Indian doll. She will be a truly lovely object, according to Indian 
ideas, which indeed may not be quite the same as your own, but 
what of that ? ” 

“ Thank you kindly, Mr. Moonman ! ” said Katinka, who was 
spending the night on Puff’s bed. “ I am very sure my dear little 
mother will do nothing of the kind. Walnut juice, indeed ! and for 
me, who have the finest complexion in the doll-house ! You might 
take Sally Bradford, now, and she would not look more like a witch 
than she does now ; but I am a French doll, and am not used to 
such treatment.” 

“ Don’t abuse Sally Bradford, Miss ! ” I said. “ She is an excel¬ 
lent doll, for whom I have a great respect; and as for your fine 
complexion, why, we all know that ‘ handsome is as handsome does ; ’ 
and I should like to know who does all the work in the doll-house. 
But speaking of witches, I wonder if Puff has ever heard the story 


200 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


of the witch who came to see little Polly Pemberton. That is a 
queer story.” 

“ No, I have never heard it, Mr. Moonman ! ” cried Puff eagerly. 
“ Was it a real witch ? do tell me the story! ” 

“ Oh ! as for being real,” I replied, “ that is none of my business. 
My business is to tell the story, which I will do. I heard a little girl 



in New Haven, telling it to her brothers and sisters the other night, 
and she frightened them half out of their wits. I will try to tell the 
story just as she did. Did you know, children, that there were 
witches in old times ? well, there were, or people thought there were, 
which came to much the same thing for the witches. Hear this 
story, and then see what you think about the matter. 

“ Well, once there was a little girl, about eight years old. I shall 
















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POLLY PEMBERTON. 

































































































































































. 







— 













































































































































STORIES AGAIN. 


203 


call her Polly, but you need not feel obliged to follow my example. 
If you prefer to call her Kamschatka, I don’t mind in the least. 
This little girl lived with her father and mother, in a little red cottage 
which stood quite by itself near a thick wood. Every day her 
parents went to the village, which was a mile or more away, to work, 
and they left little Polly in charge of the house, for she was a good 
and quiet little girl, and never was lonely or sad. One day Polly was 
sitting by the window, knitting, when she saw a queer-looking old 
woman coming along the road ; such a queer old woman. Have you 
ever seen a picture of Cinderella’s fairy godmother ? well, she looked 
just like that, pointed hat, red cloak, and all. When the old woman 
saw Polly, she stopped, and looked earnestly at her ; then she hob¬ 
bled slowly up to the door and knocked. Polly ran and opened the 
door. “ How are you, my child ? ” said the old dame; “ let me 
in. I’m your grandmother.” Polly had always been taught to be 
respectful to old people, so she let the old woman in, and politely 
handed her a chair ; but she could not help saying, as she did so, 
“ excuse me, ma’am, but I don’t think you can be my grandmother.” 
“ That shows how much you know about it! ” replied the old woman ; 
‘•how old are you?” “Eight years old,” said Polly. “Very 
well ! ” said the old woman ; “ now I am ninety-six years old, just 
twelve times as old as you are ; therefore, I’m your grandmother.” 
“ But I don’t see—” began Polly. “ Oh, if you want to argue about 
it,” said the old dame, “ here we are,” and she drew from her 
pocket a small book, and opening it, read aloud, “ Take a little girl 
eight years old, and multiply her by twelve; what will be the result ? 
Answer: her grandmother. There 1 ” she said, triumphantly, “ what 


204 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


do you think of that ? ” Poor Polly did not know what to think of 
it. She looked at the book, which looked exactly like Colburn’s 
Arithmetic. “ Is that Colburn’s Arithmetic, ma’am ? ” she asked 
timidly. “ Colburn’s Fiddlestick! ” said the old woman, shortly. 
“ Here’s another for you. Put a boy up an apple-tree, and divide 
him by a good sized bull-dog; what will remain ? hey ? ” “ I’m 

sure I don’t know,” said poor Polly, faintly. “ Mince-meat, of 
course,” said the old woman. “ You don’t know much, evidently. 
“ What a dreadful looking cat! ” thought Polly. And indeed, he did 
not look like an amiable animal. His green eyes shone with an un¬ 
canny light, and his long claws were constantly sheathing and 
unsheathing themselves, as if they longed to scratch somebody. 
However, the old woman certainly seemed fond of him. “ Hobble- 
gobble !” she said, “ prince of cats, black diamond, blazing emerald, 
attend ! 

Kickery punk, punkery kick, 

Bring the teapot and be quick! ” 

The cat gave one spring, and in the twinkling of an eye he 
reached the cupboard where the silver was kept. Now the door of 
the cupboard was locked, as Polly, in her surprise, (which was fast 
turning into terror,) thankfully remembered. The cat, finding it 
locked, turned and looked at his mistress, who, striking her stick on 
the floor, exclaimed 

“ Scratchery, patchery, tooth and nail; 

Open the door with a quirk of your tail.” 

Quick as thought the creature turned round and inserted the tip 
of his tail in the key hole. In a moment the door flew open, and 


STORIES AGAIN. 


205 


seizing the silver teapot in his claws, the cat sprang back with it to 
his mistress, who, snatching the teapot, hid it under her red cloak. 
At this Polly sprang to her feet, with a cry of mingled fear and 
anger; but the witch (for this certainly must have been a witch, if 
Hobble-gobble! ” She said this last word suddenly and sharply, 
and Polly was quite startled ; but fancy her alarm when a large black 
cat crept out from beneath the red cloak, and sitting down on his mis¬ 
tress’s knee, looked up in her face with an air of unearthly sagacity, 
ever there was one,) pointed her stick at her, and muttered some 
strange words which sounded like “ Buggara wuggera boogie jum,” 
and poor Polly fell back in her chair, unable to move hand or foot. 
There she sat, motionless, but perfectly conscious, watching this 
dreadful old hag. And what do you think the creature did next ? 
She took some strange looking herbs from her pocket, and put them 
in the teapot, which she then filled with water and set on the stove. 
Then, calling to her cat, she began to hop slowly round the stove on 
one foot. The cat followed her, hopping first on one black foot and 
then on another, but keeping its unearthly green eyes fixed on Polly 
all the time. The witch kept muttering strange words like those 
which had thrown the spell on Polly ; while her companion moved 
in time if not in tune. 

“ Buggara wuggara, boogie jum jum ! 

I will have all, and my cat shall have some. 

Boogie jum ! boogie jum ! buggara boom ! 

Down with the teapot and up with the broom! ” 

By the time she had hopped round the stove six times, the water 
in the teapot was boiling furiously. The old hag stopped and said 
“ Hobble gobble, prince of cats, produce the broom-stick ! ” 


206 


FIVE MICE IN A MO USE-TRAP . 


The cat jumped up on the stove, without seeming to mind the 
heat in the least, though the iron was nearly red hot. He lifted the 
lid of the teapot, and took out — what do you think, now ? You 
will never believe me, but I am not responsible for the story. He 
took out — a broom. A long broom, with a bright red handle, which 
seemed somehow as if it was alive, for it actually wriggled as the cat, 
leaping down from the stove, handed it to his mistress. The old 
woman snatched it, and waved it three times round Polly’s head. 
Then she mounted the stick as if it were a horse, and calling once 
more to her cat, she rose in the air, and vanished up the chimney, 
the cat sitting beside her on the broom-stick, and grinning hideously 
at Polly as long as he remained in sight. That was truly dreadful, 
was it not ? that comes of leaving little girls alone all day, which is 
a very bad plan.” 

“ But is that all ? ” asked Puffy. “ Doesn’t it tell what became of 
Polly, and the teapot? You haven’t told any end to the story, Mr. 
Moonman.” 

“ Exactly ! ” I replied. “There isn’t any end to it. But there is 
an end to this night, and that end has come. Farewell, my mouse, 
till to-morrow night.” 

And I whisked away, leaving Katinka and Puff so much astonished 
that one fell off the bed, and the other woke up. Wasn’t that funny ? 


CHAPTER XV. 




& 


ir 


FOLLOWING A SUNBEAM. 

untie,” said Downy, one morning, “ I’v 
^ dere any people in de fun ? ” 

“In the fun, dear child?” answered 
Mrs. Wilton. “ What do you mean ? 
people are often in fun. Is that it ? ” 

“ Oh ! no, Auntie ! ” said Fluff, who 
was sitting beside Downy on the broad 
window-sill, eating her porridge, “ I 
know what he means. He means ‘ in the 
sun,’ but he cannot say ‘ s,’ you know, so 
he says ‘ f ’ instead.” 

“ Oh ! ” said Aunt Grace. “ In the 
sun ; of course. I understand now. 
Well, Downy boy, I have never been in 
the sun, so I really cannot tell you. I 
heard of a little boy who did go once, however. Fluffy, tell Downy 
the little story I told you the other day, about the sunbeam. I 
would tell it to him myself, but I must speak to cook about dinner.” 






208 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


“Well, Downy,” said Fluff, in an important tone, as she settled 
herself more comfortably on the window-sill, “ Once upon a time 
there was a little boy, and his name was Wynkyn.” 

“ Nebber heard dat name ! ” interrupted Downy. 

“ Well, it was his name just the same,” said Fluff, “ for Auntie 

said so. So he wanted to 
know what was in the sun. 
So somebody told him — ” 
“ Whobody was it ? ” 
inquired Downy. 

“ Oh ! I don’t know! 
anybody! ” said Fluff. “ I 
wont tell it if you inter¬ 
rupt me, Downy.” 

“ I wont adain ! ” said 
Downy. “ Do on, Fluff 
fy!” 

“ Somebody told him,” continued Fluff, " that if he put his foot on 
the end of a sunbeam, it would turn into a golden ladder and lead 
to the sun. So he did, and so it did,—turned into a ladder, I mean ; 
all shining gold, going right up into the sun. So he went up, and 
up, and up, and the upper he went the brighter the ladder grew. At 
last he came to the sun, and there were ever so many little boys and 
girls, all made of gold, running about and playing, and having a 
splendid time. And they all came and played with Wynkyn, and 
gave him all sorts of lovely presents to take back to the earth. 



















FOLLOWING A SUNBEAM. 


209 


A golden hat and a golden coat, 

A golden ball and a golden boat, 

A slate -all covered with golden sums, 

And a golden pudding with diamond plums. 

So he was very happy, and thought he would stay there all his 
life. But while he was running after 
one of the little golden boys, he tumbled 
off the sun, and fell down the ladder, 
turning somersaults all the way. And 
when he came down to the earth again 
he had lost all the presents except the 
pudding, but he had held that all the way 
down. So he sold it to a man for forty 
million hundred dollars; and then he 
was so rich that they made him King of 
Siam, and he rode on a white elephant 
with pink ears all the rest of his life.” 

“ Iv dat all ?” asked Downy. 

“Yes, that’s all,” replied Fluff. “ I made up the last part of it, 
because I couldn’t remember just what Auntie told me after he came 
down the ladder. And now, Downy, pet,” she continued, “ I must 
go, for old Margaret has promised to show me the new chickens. 
Finish your porridge, and then you can come too ! ” and away ran 
Fluff, leaving the Downy mouse alone, looking very thoughtful over 
his porringer. He was silent for some time; then laying down his 
spoon, he said with an air of decision, “ I’m doin’ to do !” With 
that, he slid down from the window sill, and trotted out of the house 
as fast as his little fat legs would carry him. I knew perfectly well 



210 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP, 


that his intention was to go up to the sun, but I did not think he 
would get very far. On the lawn he paused, and looked about him. 
Plenty of sunbeams there ; every blade of grass had one, for the 
little sparklers, who are very vain, had come to look at themselves 
and admire their own brightness in the drops of dew which lay on 
every leaf and flower and spear of grass. Downy ran here and 
there, putting his foot down wherever he saw a flash, and then look¬ 
ing expectantly up into the air. But no golden ladder appeared, and 
at length I heard the little mouse say, “ Deve ivn’t de right kind of 
funbeamv. I’ll do fomewhere elfe.” So off he went, pattering over 
the grass and over the gravel paths, still stamping on every spot of 
sunshine, and still looking up for the golden ladder. I was just 
beginning to think it was time some one came to look after the 
mouse, when I heard a loud scream from the farm-yard. Turning 
my eyes in that direction, I saw something that was really shocking. 

Fluff had gone, as you know, with old Margaret, Mrs. Wilton’s 
good housekeeper, to see a new brood of chickens which had just 
been hatched. They were the prettiest little downy things in the 
world, and Fluff’s happiness was complete when Margaret put them 
all in her apron, and told her she might carry them to the new coop 
which had just been made for them and their mother. Now Billy, 
the donkey, was in the shed, by which Fluff was standing, and for 
some minutes he had been looking out of the window, deeply inter¬ 
ested in my mouse’s straw bonnet. Was it good to eat, or was it 
not ? that was the question which was agitating Billy’s mind at that 
moment. On the whole, he thought the only way to decide the 
matter was to try it; so stretching his head quietly out of the win- 


FOLLOWING A SUNBEAM. 


211 


dow, ne seized the bonnet in his teeth, and tearing it from Fluff’s 
head, he pioceeded to chew it as calmly as if it had been a wisp of 
hay instead of a Tuscan straw. It was Fluff’s scream that I heard, 



and I found the little mouse overcome with grief at the loss of her 
bonnet, the last fragment of which was just disappearing between 
Billy’s capacious jaws. 

«Never mind, Miss Fluffy, dear ! ” said Margaret, soothingly ; 


































212 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


“ come in to Auntie with me, and we’ll tell her all about it. She’ll 
buy you a new bonnet, I promise you, or make you one out of 
Master Billy’s ears.” 

So they went into the house, after putting the chickens carefully 
in their coop, and told Mrs. Wilton about the sad misfortune. Aunt 
Grace could not help laughing at first; but she comforted Fluff, who 
was really very much cast down, and promised to make her the 
prettiest bonnet that heart could desire. 

“ But where is Downy ? ” she asked ; “ did you leave him in the 
farm-yard, Margaret ? ” 

“ Sure, ma’am, I have not seen the child this morning! ” said 
Margaret. 

“ Why, I left him in the dining-room, 
finishing his porridge ! ” exclaimed 
Fluff. “Isn’t he there now, Auntie?” 

“ No ! ” replied Mrs. Wilton. “ He 
is not anywhere in the house, and I 
thought he had gone with you. Where 
can the child be ? ” 

Then there was a great hurry-scurry, 
in the house and out of it. All the 
other children were summoned, but 
none of them had seen Downy : so they all started off to look 
for him, Mrs. Wilton and Margaret, Nibble and Brighteyes, Fluff 
and Roger, all going in different directions, and calling as they went: 
“ Downy! Downv boy! where are you, Downy ? ” but no Downy 
answered. 






FOLLOWING A SUNBEAM. 


213 


If people only knew a little more, how much better they would get 
on ! at every step the children might have found out where Downy 

was, if they had only taken the 
trouble to listen. The old Drake 
quacked to them in his loudest 
tones : “ down by the brook ! 

down by the brook ! stupid crea¬ 
tures ! down by the brook ! ” the 
fir-trees on the lawn pointed 
their long green fingers towards 
the brook. The birds sang, the 
dogs barked, the leaves whispered, the hens cackled, and each 
and all said the same thing, over and over again ! “ Down by the 
brook! down by the brook! ” and so the whole family looked 
on the beach, and in the orchard, and up and down the road, and all 
over the barn and the stable, and in the pig-sty. If you will believe 
me, it was not till after a two-hours hunt that they found the 
little fellow, curled up in the long grass by the side of the brook, 
fast asleep. 

You may imagine how Aunt Grace caught him up, and kissed and 
petted and scolded him all in a breath. But Downy struggled to get 
down, and cried out “ Don’t take my foot off! don’t take my foot off! 
naughty Auntie ! a-a-a-ah ! a-a-ah ! ” 

“ What is it, dear ? ” said his aunt. “ Wake up, Downy dear! you 
have been asleep, and we all thought you were lost, and were 
dreadfully frightened about you. What is the matter with your foot, 
my precious ? ” 




2I 4 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


Downy rubbed his eyes and looked about him, seeming very much 
puzzled. 

“ Why, where V ve ladder ? ” he asked. “ And where’v my dolden 
puddin ? I didn’t want to tome down from de fun ! a-a-a-ah ! I want 
to be de King of Fiam, and wide on a white elephant! ” 

Well, they all told him he had been asleep and dreaming ; and 
they petted and consoled him, and took him into the house, and 
Aunt Grace gave him an apple almost as big as his own head. But 
all day long Downy was very melancholy. He smarted under a 
sense of injury, and conld not forgive his aunt for taking his foot off 
the ladder ; and it was many a day before he forgot the golden 
pudding and the white elephant. 



CHAPTER XVI. 


UNDER THE SEA. 

The four mice had been set¬ 
tled at Glen wood for more than 
two weeks before I was able to 
pay them one of my evening 
visits. Little Puff had been 
very ill indeed, and all my spare 
time had been devoted to her. 
Besides this, there was a revolu¬ 
tion in Meteoria (the place 
where the meteors come from, 
my dears), and numbers of the 
inhabitants had emigrated, and 
had been whizzing past my 
palace constantly, requiring my 
utmost care to prevent it from 
catching fire. 




2 l6 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


But the revolution was over in a week, and about the same time 
Puff began to be a little better. Then she went on improving so 
fast that I thought I really must go and tell her brothers and sisters 
about it. So off to Glenwood I went one fine night, where I was 
greeted, as usual, with a chorus of delight. 

“ Oh ! Mr. Moonman ! ” cried Fluff, clapping her hands. “ And 
we thought he didn’t know the way here ! How did you know where 
to find us, Mr. Moonman, dear ? ” 

“ Why, if you come to that,” I replied, “ there are very few places 
in the world that I cannot find, and Glenwood is not a very hard one 
to discover, my mouse. Now I have good news for you. I have 
just come from Puff’s nursery ; she sends her love to you all, and 
says she is nearly well, and wants to know what you have been doing 
all this time.” 

Then rose a clamor of questions from all sides, which I answered 
as best I could. Yes, she sat up every day, and she had broiled 
chicken for dinner, and dip-toast for supper, and Uncle Jack had 
given her a lovely new doll, with flaxen hair curling all over her 
head, whose name was Scarlatina Clematis Alfarata ; but Puff called 
her Tina, “ for short.” 

“ Did I know that Downy had been ill ? ” Brighteyes asked. 

“ No I did not know it! What had been the matter ? ” 

“ Oh ! it wasn’t much ! ” broke in Nibble : “ I don’t see why they 
made such a fuss about it. I made a feast for him, because Aunt 
Grace wanted me to amuse him while she gave Brighteyes her 
French lesson ; and I cooked the feast in Roger’s little stove, and 
some of the black paint got into the food and made it disagree with 


UNDER THE SEA. 


2I 7 


him. Things are always disagreeing with people ; I don’t see why 



People eat oil, and I don’t see why they shouldn’t eat paint; there’s 
a great deal of oil in paint, Uncle Jack told me so.” 

“Well,” I said, “you might spread paint instead of butter on your 
bread, and see how you like it. Personally, I am inclined to take 
Downy’s view of the matter. But now, we must not stop too long, 
for we have a long way to go to-night. I am going to fulfil my 
promise at last, and take you to see Patty ! What do you say to 
that, all four of you ? ” 

mice did not say much that was intelligible, but their shrieks 





















218 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE TRAP, 


of delight, their jumping and clapping of hands, were quite satis¬ 
factory. The big cloud was waiting outside, and the seven Winds 
were there, too, impatient fcv a frolic ; so I tumbled my mice and 
their cousin mouse out of their beds and into their soft white car¬ 
riage, and away we all went post-haste, or rather comet-haste, for it 
is a long way to the Indian Ocean. Merrily puffed the winds, and 
merrily chattered the five little ones ; we told stories, and sang songs, 
and altogether the trip was made so quickly that we were almost 
sorry to hear the Winds talking Hindostanee to the waves of the 
great silent water over which we were sweeping. Down floated the 
cloud, down and down, until it rested lightly on a bit of smooth 
sandy beach. 

“ Out with you, mice of mine 1 ” I said. So the mice tumbled out 
of the cloud again, and looked about them in much amazement and 
some terror. 

“ I fink I’m afraid! ” said Downy to me, confidentially. 

“ Oh, no ! ” I replied. “ You are not afraid. You are delighted, 
my dear, but you are delighted in Hindostanee, and that may be a 
different sensation from being delighted in English.” 

This explanation seemed to comfort the little fellow, so I turned to 
the elder mice and said, “ Patty is expecting you to-night, so every¬ 
thing will be in readiness. All you have to do is to go out on that 
flat rock yonder, and wait till a fish comes and speaks to you. Then 
you must say — 

‘ Bobbily Bungaloo, Indian fish, 

To visit your mistress is what I wish.’ 

After that he will manage everything for you, and will take you at 


UNDER THE SEA . 


219 


once to Patty. I shall wait here till you return, for going under the 

water is very apt to give 
me the asthma. Run, 


now, and be good, all of 
|you ! ” 


It required some cour- 
Hl age for the little ones to 
leave their old friend 
and start off on such a strange and out- 
of-the-way expedition ; but Nibble and 
Brighteyes led the way boldly, and the 
three others followed, clinging closely to 
each other. They soon reached the rock, 
and found Bobbily Bungaloo swimming 
about, waiting for them. He greeted 
them kindly, and bade them follow him, 
and one by one they all disappeared 
under the water. 

Of course, however, I can see perfectly 
well what goes on under the water. Dear 
me, yes ! it would be a pity if I could not 
do that. I saw the mice go down, down, 
down, through the clear water. All around them swam myriads of 
fishes, all eager to greet the little strangers who had come so far. 
There were large fishes and small fishes, some all head and some all 
tail, some ugly enough to frighten one, and others so beautiful that 
the children were sorely tempted to catch them and carry them home. 














220 


FIVE MICE IN A MO USE-TRAP. 


All were kind and friendly, and said many pleasant things, which 
Bobbily Bungaloo, who is a very learned fish, translated into English 
for the mice’s benefit. At length they arrived at the bottom of the 
sea, and saw at a little distance before them, the palace of my cousin 
Patty. As I may have told you before, this palace is simply a huge 
round pearl, hollowed out into many chambers. A more superb 
dwelling-place can hardly be imagined. It is really like a small moon 
under the water, so bright and beautiful is it. The children were 

speechless with admi¬ 
ration and wonder, as 
they well might be. 

“ H’m ! ” said a fat 
oyster, opening her 
shell to peep at them, 
“ I should think they 
had never seen a pearl 
before. My necklace 
also is worth looking 

at, if they only knew enough to look down.” 

But the mice had no eyes for anything except the pearl palace, 
especially as Patty herself now appeared in the doorway, waiting to 
welcome her little guests. 

She kissed them all, and led them into a great hall, the walls and 
ceiling of which were of mother-of-pearl, while the floor was of pink 
coral, laid in a hundred beautiful patterns. At one end of the hall 
was a throne of pearl, and on this Patty seated herself, bidding the 
children sit down on some pretty pink coral stools beside her. 







UNDER THE SEA. 


221 


“ Now, my dears,” she said, “ what shall Patty do to amuse her 
little friends ? I think we will have some lunch first, for you must 
be hungry after your long journey. Then I will take you through 
the palace, and then you shall sail in one of my pretty boats. How 
does that programme please you ? ” 

She rang a bell, and a tall merman in a splendid livery, glistening 
with pearl buttons, made his appearance, carrying a huge silver tray 
heaped with sea-delicacies. The children were really hungry, and 
they soon found that the dishes were as good as they were strange. 

“What is this, Patty?” asked Brighteyes ; “it is delicious, but ] 
cannot imagine what it is.” 

“That,” said Patty, “is a fricassee of sea-anemones. They ar^ 
very nice, I think, and we cook them in a great many different ways 
Nibble, there, is eating fried gold-fish, and Fluff and Roger are bus) 
over a dish of scallops in jelly.” 

“ Oh ! how nice everything is ! ” sighed Fluff; “ I wish I knew 
whether it were all real or not. Mr. Moonman always laughs at me 
when I ask him if I am dreaming him and all the good times we 
have with him. Are you real, Patty ? do tell me ! ” 

But Patty only laughed and said, “ I am as real as a great many 
things in this world, dear child ! Take some anemones, and don’t 
trouble yourself about their being real, as long as they are good.” 

When the children had finished their lunch, she took Downy b) 
the hand, and bade the rest follow her: and then she led them 
through the different rooms of the wonderful palace. Dear ! dear! 
such a palace as it was! I really thought those mice would never 
get their mouths shut again, so wide did they open them in their 


222 


FIVE MICE IN A MO USE-TRAP. 


amazement. The first room they went through was hung with green 
sea-weed, beautifully fringed, and the carpet was of softest moss. 
Here were sitting numbers of pretty mermaids, sewing and em¬ 
broidering on great pieces of kelp, with needles made of the spines 
of some fish. They all nodded and smiled at the children, but did 
not speak, for they knew nothing but Hindostanee. 

“ To think,” murmured Brighteyes, softly, “ that we should really 
be in the same room with a dozen mermaids ! and their neat little 
tails are covered with scales, just as the song says, and they are sit¬ 
ting in pink coral chairs. Oh ! if I could only find out where the 
sea-flower grows, so that I might remember all this ! ” 

Then they passed through halls of deep-red coral, and lovely little 
rooms which seemed entirely made of small bright shells set closely 
together, until they came to the Sun and Moon rooms, which my 
good Patty has named in honor of my brother and me. The Sun 
room is all gold from floor to ceiling, burnished gold, which shines 
so that one really has to shade one’s eyes on going into it. From 
the glittering ceiling hang numbers of diamond lamps, which swing 
perpetually to and fro with a slow, steady motion, flashing and 
sparkling like real sunbeams. My room, which is next to this 
gorgeous apartment, is no less beautiful, being all of fretted silver, 
with lamps of pearl, which shed a lovely soft light nearly equal to 
that of my own beams, though not so bright. Of course the mice 
were enchanted beyond measure with all this splendor ; but when 
they begged to be allowed to stay in the lovely silver room and play, 
Patty smiled and said, “we have yet many things to see, dear child¬ 
ren, and the night is short. Besides, puss-in-the-corner is no better 


UNDER THE SEA . 


223 


fun in a silver room than in a plastered nursery. Come then, and 
see the play-room of my little mermaids! ” 

She threw open a door, and there was a sight which made the 
mice fairly squeak with amazement and delight. It was a vast room, 
all of white coral, with lovely pictures painted on the walls and 
ceiling, and as full as it could be of little tiny sea-children, frolicking 
about, and playing just as many pranks as land-babies play. They 
surrounded the children with exclamations of wonder and delight. 
Children must have a language of their own, certainly, for though 
the Indian sea-babies knew no more of English than the American 
babies did of Hindostanee, it was not ten minutes before they were 
all perfectly good friends, and were playing together in the most de¬ 
lightful way. Nibble and Roger were almost breaking their necks in 
the vain endeavor to turn somersaults as fast as their little friends 
with the tails. Brighteyes was hugging and petting “ the loveliest 
baby in the world, if it hasn't any toes,” which she had taken from 
its nurse’s arms, while Fluff and a little mermaiden of her own age 
were deeply confidential in a corner, on the subject of their respec¬ 
tive dolls. Fancy, will you, children all, a white coral doll with a 
long pearly tail, and hair of pale yellow sea moss, very fine and soft! 
Truly, it was a lovely creature, and Fluff would gladly have exchanged 
the most cherished of her waxen babies for it. The little mermaid 
sang pretty songs to her dolly, and rocked it in a cradle of amber 
with sea-weed curtains. Presently Patty said, “ Little Fluff, will you 
not sing an English song for my sea-babies ? sing something about 
flowers and fairies, for those are things that we have not here, and 
the little ones like to hear about them.” 


224 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


So my Fluff sang this little song, which she callecTThe Fairy 
Wedding 



Blue bell, bonny bell, ring for the wedding ! 

Gallant young Hyacinth’s married the rose; 
Here we all wait for the marriage procession, 
Standing up high on our tippy-toe-toes. 

Blue bell, bonny bell, ring for the wedding ! 

First the three ushers on grasshoppers ride; 
Coxcomb, Larkspur, and gallant Sweet William, 
Handsome young dandies as ever I spied. 

Here in a coach come the bride’s rich relations, 
Old Madame Damask and old Mr. Moss; 
Greatly I fear she has not won their blessing, 
Else they’d not look so uncommonly cross. 

Here comes his Excellence Baron de Goldburg, 
Leading the Dowager Duchess of Snail; 
Feathers and fringe on the top of her bonnet, 
Roses and rings on the end of her tail. 



UNDER THE SEA. 


225 


Blue bell, bonny bell, ring for the wedding ! 

Here come the bridesmaids by two and by two. 

Gay little Primrose, fair little Snowdrop, 

Peachblossom, Jasmine and Eglantine too. 

Last come the lovers, wrapped up in each other, 

Thinking of love, and of little beside ; 

Blue bell, bonnie bell, ring for the wedding ! 

Health and long life to the beautiful bride ! ” 

Loud were the cries of delight over 
Fluffy’s song ; but they soon changed 
into exclamations of sorrow, when 
Patty told the mice that they must bid good-bye to their little sea 
friends, as it was nearly time for them to go home. All the little 
sea-maidens and boys pressed round them, kissing them, and begging 
them to come again, which they gladly promised to do. Fluffy 
hugged her new friend and said “good-bye, you dear! I think you 
must be real, you are so lovely! ” and so they left the beautiful play¬ 
room, and the coral doors shut behind them. 

At the gate of the palace they found a lovely boat waiting for 
them. It was a great purple mussel-shell, lined with pearl, and 
cushioned with softest moss. In this Patty told the mice to seat 
themselves, and then, kissing them all, she bade them good-bye, and 
touched the shell with her silver wand. Up floated the strange boat, 
up and up, while the children leaned over the side as far as they 
dared, and threw kisses to their “dear delightful lovely Patty!” 
Multitudes of fishes surrounded them as before, and Bobbily Bunga- 
loo, as a guard of honor, swam before the boat. At last I, waiting 
patiently by the rock, saw the five little heads rise above the water. 




226 


FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 


Lightly my pets jumped from their purple boat; they bade farewell 
to Bobbily Bungaloo and his train, and then came running to me, all 
talking at once, and so fast that their remarks sounded quite as much 
like Hindostanee as like English. 

“ Now,” I said, “ you shall tell me all about everything as we go 
along; but we must start at once, for there is no time to be lost, I 
assure you ! ” 

So they wrapped themselves up in their cloud again, and the 
Winds blew, and the children chattered, and the cloud flew through 
the air at a tremendous rate. Indeed, our seven little airy friends 
were so bent upon showing their utmost speed that they forgot where 
they were going, and would have blown my mice to California if I 
had not stopped them. As it was, it was nearly daybreak when we 
reached Glenwood. The seven Winds were so weary that they did 
not trouble themselves about the cloud after the children had got 
out of it, but bidding the little ones farewell, they fell fast asleep in 
the bed of lilies under the window ; and I also departed, while my 
pets called after me, thanking me for “ the most delightful of all the 
delightful nights! ” 


CHAPTER XVII. 


GOOD-BYE, 



Well, it was not long- after this that my four mice went back to 
the Mouse-trap, for Puffy was quite well again, and begged that she 
might not be left alone a moment longer than was necessary. So 
one happy da/ the little mouse, still pale and thin, but beaming with 
delight, clasped her twin in her arms, on the old stone steps, while 









2 23 FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE-TRAP. 

the other mice danced about them. Mrs. Posset cried over her 
Downy; Tomty came up from the garden with his pockets full of 
apples for his pets; Gruff and Grim and Grab barked their noisy 
welcome; while good Uncle Jack smiled on them all, and was well- 
pleased to have all his little ones around him again in the dear old 
Mouse-trap. 

And here, though it is really melancholy to think of, I must leave 
my five mice. There are many and many more things that I should 
like to tell you about them, but we must wait till another time for all 
that. The fact is that Mr. Estes, the gentleman who is going to be 
so very kind as to put all these stories into a book for me, (for 
neither my dog nor I could possibly do that for ourselves, and I 
don’t know of any book-binding star in the whole firmament,) says 
he really cannot undertake to print any more of my nonsense at 
present, as he has many grave and learned books to publish. It is 
my private opinion that there is often as much moonshine in grave 
and learned books as there is in children’s stories ; but perhaps I am 
not a good judge, for I see more or less moonshine in everything. 

However that may be, the fact remains that I must say good-bye 
for the present to the Five Mice in the Mouse-trap, and to you, 
Patchko and Tinka, Jimmy and Jenny, Alice and Amy, and all the 
rest of you. Be good children, now ! don’t forget to shut the door 
after you when you go out of a room ; don’t forget to shut your eyes 
when you go to sleep ; and above all, don’t forget your old friend, 


THE MAN IN THE MOON 


HAY 18 19M 












t 









